


Breaking the Cycle

by artlessICTOAN



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: Gaara adopts sand sibs 2.0, Gen, I do not know how to child, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, fluffy and angsty at the same time somehow?, i love this family so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2018-07-26 06:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7563811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artlessICTOAN/pseuds/artlessICTOAN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine inspection of Suna's orphanage led Gaara to some unexpected ruminating on his past, as well as three big changes to his life. Kankuro is not amused. (Or why Gaara is a sentimental dork and needs to think things through more)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breaking the Cycle

**Author's Note:**

> So I’ve become _slightly_ obsessed with sand sibs 2.0 and Papa Gaara, this is just a ~~little~~ oneshot about how I think they came to be adopted by him, be forewarned that thanks to there being basically no info on these three (I think Araya’s personality trait is…. mask?) I’m gonna be filling in the blanks with personal headcanons, that will inevitably be proven wrong once more chapters of Boruto come out. I don’t particularly care, tbh I’m not even gonna read the manga outside of any sand fam bits cause I really don’t want to see any of my old faves ruined (still not happy about Gaa’s characterisation in that last chap), just be aware that this will probably seem wildly ooc in a few months’ time, especially Araya, who most people seem to think is gonna be like Shino or Neji or one of the other 12 bajillion ‘stoic, quiet, badass’ characters in Naruto and, yeah he probably is, but I think this is a more interesting take so w/e.  
>  Gaara’s about 25-26 in this, sand sibs 2.0 between 5 and 6, just as a reference point.

\---

Gaara stared up at the sky, it was more red than usual this evening, light reflecting and bouncing off the grains of sand in the air; a storm was coming.

That was to be expected, the rainy season always brought thunderstorms, as well as the life-giving water that filled their reservoirs and caused the flowers and cacti seeds buried deep in the earth to bloom and create a blanket of wildflowers across the desert plains. It was one of the most spectacular sights the desert had to offer.

But, before that could happen, there had to be the storms.

“As you can see, our facilities have improved greatly, with the help of your funding, of course. In the last year and a half, we’ve added two new extensions to our living quarters, giving us enough rooms to have only two children per room, rather than the previous three or four, as well as the much needed extra bathrooms, with modern plumbing imported from Tetsu no Kuni.

“We still need to find more land for specialised teaching rooms, we currently have classes of over thirty children and there’s simply not enough space for them to sit comfortably, let alone provide an effective learning environment; of course we would also need to hire more teaching staff to reduce class size,” Yumiko said.

Gaara nodded to show he had taken in her words; he already knew most of this – he’d read the inspection reports – but hearing from the orphanage’s director herself allowed him a greater understanding of what she believed was important, which helped him to evaluate her competency; he didn’t like to doubt the people of his village, but he knew that those in positions of power didn’t always act in the best interests of those under their care.

“And the older buildings?” he asked, “Will they be able to withstand the rainy season, or will repairs need to be made?” He turned his gaze away from the twilit sky and looked up into the eyes of the older woman.

“We had a maintenance crew inspect all of our buildings for structural damage last week, the roof of building two needs minor repairs, we have already submitted a mission request and expect a genin team to be arriving tomorrow morning.” Her tone was cool and she didn’t mince words. Gaara liked her.

He nodded once again, following her into the orphanage’s reception area. It was clean and bright, most buildings in Suna didn’t bother with decoration, the walls were the same golden brown on the inside that they were on the outside, but here brightly coloured papers covered every inch of space, they were cut roughly, into unidentifiable shapes and paint and ink was scribbled onto their surfaces – only in the most uncomplimentary colours possible it seemed.

Yumiko stopped walking ahead when she noticed he wasn’t following, she glanced back at him, then at the wall of colour. “The children made those, we asked them to make their favourite animal and write why they liked it on the back. It’s just something to brighten the place up, our tenants and visitors have both responded well,” she explained.

The Kazekage slowly wandered over to the wall and picked one out at random; a… cat? He turned the paper and worked his way through the scribbled handwriting, ‘I like the tanki cause it is strong and protekts every one,’ oh, it was supposed to be a tanuki not a ca-

Oh.

The tall woman came up beside him and glanced at the decoration he had picked up. “Ah, yes. That one’s a very popular choice, if you want to come back and look at them – after our meeting – I’m sure the children would be thrilled to know you liked their work.”

Gaara carefully pinned the drawing back on the wall and turned back to Yumiko, “Ah, yes, perhaps I will,” he said.

The manager simply nodded and started leading him on a tour of the orphanage.

\---

“Right now, all the children are in the assembly hall, we use it as an entertainment room in the evenings, giving them a short time to play before they get ready for bed,” the woman stated, breezing past the set of double doors. Gaara could hear the muffled chatter and laughter, coming from behind them.

He stopped walking and stared at the doors.

“Actually, I was hoping to speak to the children,” he stated, quietly.

Yumiko halted so suddenly, he almost heard the screech of her shoes on the floor. “I-I’m sorry?” she asked, turning to stare at him with something like disbelief on her face.

“The children. I would like to speak with them. Hear their opinions on how the orphanage is being run.”

“Well, I can understand that, but I don’t think now is the best time, it’s nearly their bedtime and a visit from the Kazekage – of all people – would only serve to excite them and-”

“Please, I cannot guarantee that I will have time to visit them in the coming weeks and I would like to see how they are doing… Their wellbeing means a great deal to me,” he said, it was true, everyone knew it.

After the war was over, a large number of his shinobi had lost their lives; leaving many, many children without homes or families. He’d always been highly invested in improving the childcare system – ever since he was first inducted as Kazekage – and he’d helped this very orphanage turn from a decrepit wreck, run by people who should never have had _any_ contact with children (and they never would again, he’d made sure of that), into a modern and comfortable facility, with every employee given rigorous background checks and personally authorised by him.

The woman opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again and sighed. “Very well, Gaara-sama, I understand. Just, please try to keep them calm, it will make things easier on our staff,” she said, rubbing at her temple wearily.

“Of course, I will only be asking them a few questions,” he attempted to reassure her, it was something he’d been practising with Kankuro lately, though he wasn’t sure how well it was going.

She flashed a tiny smile at him, before her face once again returned to its usual severe expression, “I will just go and make sure they are prepared then, I’ll call you in when they are settled,” she didn’t wait for a response before marching into the hall, doors slamming hard behind her.

Outside, Gaara took a minute to calm his mind. He shouldn’t be nervous about speaking to a room full of children, he’d given vastly more important speeches to vastly more intimidating people, but he’d always had a… complicated relationship with kids.

For so much of his life they had been a source of so much strife, when he was a child himself – before he had allowed Shukaku to dominate his life and thoughts so completely, before he gave in to despair and hatred – they had been his most obvious aggressors, even more so than the adults. Everyone old enough to truly understand what he was, what he contained, knew to fear him. They would avoid meeting his gaze, mutter abuse under their breath as he passed, but never outright attack him. The other children though, they didn’t know why he was feared, only that he was; they were the ones who’d shout insults at him and hurl stones that shattered against his sand shield.

Now, he knew better, knew that they were just taking the words their parents would mutter behind his back and throwing them in his face, that they didn’t really understand what they were doing and that the quiet, insidious hate of the adults was by far the worst type of hate he had experienced from anyone outside of his own family.

But as old as those scars were, as long ago they had healed, they were still visible to his mind’s eye, reminders that he could not simply forget, as much as he wished he could.

A cough from beside him broke him out of his thoughts.

“Gaara-sama, they’re ready for you now,” Yumiko said, holding the door open for him.

He straightened and nodded his acknowledgement, “Thank you.”

Walking into the hall was an assault on the senses; just like in the reception, bright colours covered every part of this room, children’s paintings and crafts pinned to every wall, bright strips of cloth criss-crossed the ceiling and held aloft mobiles of stars and moons. The air was heavy with the smells of many bodies packed together and a tinge of the stew they must have eaten for dinner.

The second the door had closed behind him the children, clustered in an indistinct semi-circle, all chorused, “Good evening Kazekage-sama!” led by the carers sitting amongst them.

He didn’t smile, but the sincere welcome did give him the prickling warmth that he associated with long nights relaxing in the company of his siblings, or time catching up with his friends in Konoha. “Thank you, I hope you are all well?” he asked, watching the crowd in front of him.

A choir of ‘yeses’ filled the air, he waited until everyone had settled down before speaking again, “I am here today to inspect this orphanage, Yumiko-san has already told me what she thinks needs to be improved, but you will be the ones most affected by any changes we make, so I would like to hear your opinions, hear what you think might make you happier living here. I cannot promise that everything you ask for will be provided, but I can promise that I will listen to everything you have to say and will do everything in my power to make sure your requests are fulfilled.”

Suddenly there was a wall of noise.

All of the children were chattering excitedly to each other and waving their hands wildly trying to get his attention. His eyes flitted around the children causing his – already sensitive – hearing to overload completely, this was why he was so nervous around kids, they were too unpredictable and uncontrollable.

He glanced to Yumiko in a silent plea for help, though he kept his face studiously blank as always.

She sighed and clapped her hands once, producing a shockwave that did little more than ruffle a few clothes, but it immediately silenced the rowdy kids. An interesting use of jutsu, clearly she was reducing its power so as to not cause any actual harm, but interesting nonetheless. Gaara absently wondered why she would choose to end her service, she had been a powerful jounin under Temari’s command, but then again she wasn’t the only one to resign after the war had ended, honestly he couldn’t blame them.

“Good. Now Kazekage-sama can hardly hear what you say if you all speak at once, can he?” she asked, tone and eyes sharp, “I think I might have a better idea; get into groups of no more than ten, you may discuss your ideas – _quietly_ – and write them down on paper, we will collect them all in fifteen minutes. Kazekage-sama, if you wish to go around and speak to the groups to gain a better understanding of the children’s ideas and feelings then you may, this will work fine I believe?”

Gaara nodded his assent, inwardly relieved that someone had saved him. He watched the boys and girls eagerly grouping up, most likely they were choosing to sit with their friends, babbling easily together and snatching up pens and pencils as the care assistants found paper for each group.

Letting the children – and his own mind, though he wouldn’t admit it – settle for a minute he silently observed them, trying to get a read on the social dynamics at play.

There were two large groups; ten each, with mostly boys in one and girls in the other, he had never quite understood that, but apparently it was normal for young children to gravitate to same-gender friendships, they were also the noisiest of all the groups, with kids talking over each other and yanking pens out of each other’s hands.

There was a slightly smaller group, this one seemed to contain the shyer children, they were far more sensible in their discussion and were actually asking the assistants for advice, he frowned slightly and moved to sit with that group first, he didn’t want the children’s opinions to be contaminated by the adult’s.

“So, what is it you are discussing here?” he asked, unsure how to start the conversation.

All of the kids glanced around at each other nervously, until one of the braver ones rose his head. “Uhm, we were talking about our meals – they’re nice! – but, umm, we have the same seven meals every week, we think that, um, we should have more different meals and stuff…” he petered off at the end, but the rest of his group was nodding to back him up.

“That is a valid concern, I’m sure me and Yumiko-san can work something out,” he said, as gently as he could.

This seemed to encourage the other children, who started talking openly about their ideas, mostly small things that would just make life a little more interesting for them; he had to leave them after a few minutes, he still wanted to speak to some of the other children, but he was happy with this progress.

He spent the next ten minutes wandering from group to group, some had ideas that were completely unreasonable – a pool in the yard and no more timeouts was certainly never going to happen, even if they would make the children happier – but, they were also showing him concerns that hadn’t been brought up by Yumiko and that he would never have even considered by himself; a strict schedule that made the days predictable and boring, the tendency to promote the smarter children’s achievements, discouraging those who were slower to learn and too much pressure to succeed. These were the things he had wanted to hear about, the things that directly impacted a child’s wellbeing and happiness.

He was getting ready to call it a day when he heard something from across the room; laughter, he’d heard a lot of that already of course, but this was a different kind of laughter, the mocking, spiteful kind that made him instinctively tense up.

Gaara turned his head to find its source, a group of six, all snickering and glancing around surreptitiously.

“Oh, oh! I’ve got another one, they should get rid of all the ugly kids, no one’s gonna adopt them, so they’re just using up stuff that could be for us,” the girl burst into hysterics, along with her friends.

“So, just get rid of Araya then?” a boy added, followed by a choir of ‘ _ohhh!_ ’s.

The Kazekage frowned deeply, feeling his hands clench into tight fists. He followed the children’s gazes to the far corner, where three children were sitting, separated from everyone else by a fair few meters, backs towards the larger groups and radiating a coldness so strong that even the emotionally stunted Gaara could feel it.

“Ichiro! It’s cruel to say things like that,” the hapless carer sitting with the bully’s group said, clearly failing to control his charges.

“It’s true though, who’d want Ugly, Cranky and Freaky over there anyway?” the boy asked, directly staring at the three outsiders. It almost seemed like he wanted to start a fight, he was speaking loudly enough that they could hear him and he was entirely too interested in their reactions.

Apparently his victims were at their breaking point, or at least one of them was. A young girl with blond hair, cropped short, was on her feet and halfway across the room in seconds, it was only the two boys sitting with her who stopped her sprint towards the nasty kids; each grabbing hold of one of her skinny arms and dragging her back, though not towards the corner they had been in earlier, they were instead making haste to the doors.

Gaara watched uncertainly, he knew he should step in – the other adults hadn’t seemed to notice the disturbance, too busy keeping their own groups under control – but his immediate instincts were telling him to shut them up the only way that had ever worked in the past.

He took a sharp breath in and slowly counted to ten in his head, those thoughts were less common these days, but this situation was bringing up memories and feelings that clouded his judgement.

“Ichiro, Kimiya!” Yumiko’s voice was a surprising comfort, despite its tone. “Both of you, to my office right now, how many times must I tell you that such comments are not allowed – and if front of our Kazekage as well! What must he think of you now?”

The redhead didn’t appreciate being unexpectedly thrown under pressure like this, but he understood the reasoning; he was a respected figure, his disapproval would likely be a stronger punishment than hers.

The two children stared at him anxiously, almost like they were awaiting a physical blow from him.

He slowly let out his held breath, being careful to keep his voice level, though he couldn’t quite keep the edge of coldness out of it, “To belittle another, for a reason so… petty, is unacceptable. Were you one of my shinobi, I would have you suspended from your duties until you could _prove_ to me that you can care about others, as much as you do yourselves,

“Teamwork, understanding, compassion, friendship; these are the values that I have based my leadership as Kazekage on, the values I hope to instil in all of my shinobi and my citizens. And yes, it takes time and effort to learn those values, I know this because I myself had to learn them, over many years and with many failures. My hate towards others led me down a dark path, one that would have consumed me, had I not been pulled out at the last moment, saved by my first friend, the one who opened my eyes to the truth,

“We live in a harsh world, one that will take all it can from you – as I’m sure everyone here knows all too well – you should never turn on those around you, not when you might one day rely on those people to help you. Hate will only ever lead to more hate, it is never easy to forgo it, but we must; because if we do not, we will never be more than those who came before us,

“The cycle has to end somewhere, my goal, my duty, is to end it with us.”

Gaara opened his eyes slowly, he hadn’t been expecting to launch into a full speech, but then again when he spoke about his past and his ambitions he could never stop himself from bringing Naruto into his words. Apparently it was quite annoying, Kankuro would probably be laughing right now.

The silence stretched out uncomfortably, before Yumiko finally saved him, yet again, “Very well said, Kazekage-sama, I hope all of you payed attention and learned something from that. Ichiro, Kimiya, my office. I’ll speak with you once I’ve seen our gracious visitor out, everyone else, go get cleaned up for bed.”

There was a sudden flurry of movement, the two troublemakers darted out of the room without once looking at him, but he didn’t feel particularly bad about it.

Had they been a few years older, he would’ve given them an actual punishment, as it was; they were young, they had plenty of time to learn, he could only hope they would take this opportunity for what it was.

As the other children were ushered out by the four carers – many of them stopping to thank him for visiting or bowing as they passed – Yumiko made her way over to him, carrying with her the gathered papers the kids had been working on earlier. “I am deeply sorry you had to witness that, those two have always had a mean streak, but I do believe that your speech got through to them this time. I’m impressed, you certainly do have a way with words, though I already knew that, Commander General.” She held out the stack to him, tight-lipped smile on her face.

“No, I am glad I was here, I can learn more about what needs to be changed by witnessing problems myself,” he said, following her lead out into the hallway, it was already completely clear. “However, I am curious about those three who were being harassed. What is their story?”

The woman sighed, “They are… troubled children. Of course every child here has a sad story, but those three… Shinki, the quiet one, we don’t actually know much about, he’s reticent and we’ve found no records of him or his birth parents. I suspect he remembers more than he lets on, but he’s very slow to trust and especially dislikes adults,

“Yodo, she lived on the streets until recently; she never knew her parents, likely never had any carer that lasted for more than a few months. Her life was hard, stealing and sleeping in whatever alley was cleanest, she’s finding it difficult to adjust and her temper is poor, when she gets angry she gets violent – and it doesn’t take much to make her angry,

“And lastly is Araya, he’s a sweet boy, shy and very emotional. His parents were killed in a fire two years ago, he lived, but was badly burned, his face in particular visibly scarred and deformed. It hasn’t made him many friends, though he himself wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

Gaara nodded, wheels clicking in his mind, those stories certainly held elements that he could relate to his own childhood. “And the bullying, how long has it been going on?”

“Since they first came here. I’ve tried my best to integrate them with the other children, but the bullies have simply taken to attacking them when no one is watching and the three themselves don’t seem to care for making friends, they’re content with just each other I suppose,” Yumiko explained.

He could understand, when you had one friend in a world that hates you, that felt like it was enough. Even if that friend was a world away and likely didn’t even remember you.

Even if that ‘friend’ was the voice in your own head, begging for blood.

These three children were incredibly lucky that they had formed such close bonds, even if they were formed out of pain and similar circumstances, but those bonds alone _weren’t_ enough. Even when he’d seen the light that was Naruto and made that – awful, painful, _necessary_ – decision to change his very way of being, he hadn’t done it through the force of that one friendship alone.

He’d done it with his family; his brother staying up with him on the bad nights, the nights that were endless screams and bad feelings bubbling beneath the surface, even though he was still terrified that his little brother might snap at any second. Temari gently coaching him through social interaction, after he’d done all he could to avoid it for six years, being honest when he was doing something wrong, but never pushing him farther than he could handle. Letting him talk through his problems as a sympathetic, but rational, councillor.

Matsuri, his first – and thus far only – student, she’d been the first one outside of his family to truly accept him and give him the chance to change. Baki, the one who had first put the thought of becoming Kazekage into his head, the man who had given him heavy expectations to live up to, expectations that had made him into the leader he was today.

Without all of them… well, there was no telling how long it would have been before he slipped back into the darkness without them holding him up and his only other source of light far, far away.

Shinki, Yodo and Araya probably wouldn’t slip down the same steep dune he had, they already had a stable foundation in each other (and they didn’t have the quicksand that was Shukaku sucking at their heels), but he felt some of what they must be going through right now.

“I… think I would like to speak to them,” he said, tone audibly unsure, but the whirring gears of his mind working through some strange new feelings now had almost all of his attention.

 

The orphanage’s manager didn’t object, she simply nodded and opened the entryway for him. “They usually hide out by the trash when Yodo has one of her ‘moments’, please, be careful with them,” she said, giving him the most genuine smile he’d yet to see on her.

He felt it only polite to reciprocate, “Thank you, Yumiko-san. I… might need to talk to you again, afterwards,” he could barely believe the words coming out of his own mouth.

She chuckled lightly, “I thought so, I’ll be in my office until eleven tonight,” with that said she let the door close behind him.

Gaara took a deep breath of the early night air, it was thick and damp with the promise of the coming storm, but the bitter cold helped to clear his thoughts somewhat. With his nerves settled and a sense of purpose he hadn’t felt since the end of the war, he went to find the children.

It didn’t take long; as Yumiko had guessed, they were hiding next to the large earthen containers that smelled entirely unpleasant, huddled together, the two boys each holding one of the girl’s hands, humming softly to each other. Gaara almost didn’t want to interrupt this private moment, but his presence didn’t stay unnoticed for long before the blond’s eyes snapped open and glared darkly at him.

“What’re ya lookin’ at?” she snapped, causing the two boys to look around in confusion until they spotted him.

The Kazekage didn’t say anything, simply hiked up his formal robes enough to sit cross-legged in front of them. He met the bold child’s gaze evenly, but kept his face placid – which wasn’t hard, given that was its default setting – quietly observing the details that he had missed earlier.

The girl was clearly the most outspoken of the three and the most outwardly hostile, she was thin, but thin in the way that the stray alley cats common in Suna were, underfed and bony, but with toned, lean muscle hidden beneath scarred skin. Shinki was fairly ordinary-looking, a boyish face without any particularly notable features, but his expression was distant, no… detached, like he wasn’t even really there, but was buried somewhere deep in his own mind. Gaara’s interest piqued at that, detachment was a feeling he was _very_ familiar with.

And Araya, well, Yumiko had not been exaggerating when she said he was scarred. Half his face was misshapen, pinkish-white scar tissue covering strange lumps, his right eye half covered by a drooping brow and his iris clouded, was he blind? It looked painful, though it had to have healed a long time ago. Underneath that though, he looked just the same as any other child, his expression – though twisted by rigid scar-tissue – was the most open of the group and, right now, he looked terrified.

Gaara still didn’t say anything, if this unfamiliar feeling was right this conversation could have huge ramifications, depending on how it went.

“Well?” Yodo asked again, pulling her hand out of Shinki’s grasp to point it accusingly at her Kazekage, he couldn’t shake the sudden sense of déjà vu that shook him to his core as the memory of another scruffy blond pointing directly at him flittered across his eyes.

If he looked back on it, perhaps he would mark that moment as the one that changed everything.

“You three have a strong bond, I envy you.”

The girl blinked at him, Araya glanced confusedly between his friends and his Kage and Shinki’s eyes shifted, suddenly he was looking _at_ him, instead of through him.

Yodo was the first to voice her thoughts, “Huh?”

The redhead smiled, genuinely smiled, he somehow couldn’t bring himself to be nervous anymore, and looked between the three, “To have such close friends, that is a true blessing, I wish that I had been so lucky when I was your age.”

“But, every kid has friends, lots more than we do,” Araya said, “and you’re the Kazekage, you must have more friends than anyone.”

Gaara shook his head gently, “Less than you would think, I didn’t make my first friend until I was twelve years old. But here you are, with two each already, that is something to cherish and celebrate.”

The girl was still scowling at him – only slightly less aggravated than before – and the scarred boy looked utterly perplexed, though that was a distinct improvement over fear, Shinki was giving him a long, hard stare, his face was still blank, but it was clear the wheels were turning in his head.

“Kazekage-sama, what are you doing here?” he asked slowly, eyes narrowed as he watched for every reaction from the adult; yes, this one definitely felt very familiar.

“I heard what those children said earlier, does that happen a lot?”

The blond’s glare deepened and she butted in before either of her friends could speak, “Yeah, but no, we don’t want you to tell Yumiko-san or tell them to stop. It doesn’t work and we can handle ourselves just fine.”

“I’ve no doubt you can,” Gaara chuckled, softly, “but I am asking because I’m worried you might be starting to hate them, the true hatred that you feel in your bones. The hate that makes you want to see those who hurt you bleed and scream, I would not blame you for it – in fact I would be impressed if you did not – but that path of hatred is not a pleasant one to walk. It looks appealing and the first few steps are deceptively easy, but once you start down it, the sandstorm will eventually rise to hinder your journey, it will tear at your mind and make you lose your way, eventually you will be buried under the weight of all that hatred.”

All three looked to each other for a long moment; there was definitely a silent communication going on, he and his own siblings had the same ability, but he couldn’t read their faces well enough to guess what they were thinking.

Shinki appeared to be voted their spokesman.

“Maybe we do, but what other option do we have? They hated us first and we can’t force them to stop, but, we aren’t going to hurt them… well, Yodo might, but she can’t help it.”

Gaara knew exactly what he wanted to do, “Let me show you a different path,” he said, holding out his hands to them.

“Let me be your light in the darkness.”

\---

Kankuro glared at the sight before him.

Sitting innocently across the table from him was a plate, a _full_ plate of _cold_ food.

Gaara was so gonna get it for coming home late again.

Sure he was busy with Kage business and emergencies cropped up all the time, but they had promised that at least one night a week they would have a family dinner together – even without Temari and, yes, he was still bitter about that, he’d planned to whine about it to his little brother tonight. Unless some huge, earth-shaking, Suna-destroying event had happened in the past two and a half hours, he had no intention of letting Gaara off the hook this time.

And he’d like to think he’d have noticed if there was something wrong.

He’d cooked _salted tongue_ for crying out loud!

About halfway through the list he was making of all the unexpected places his brother could find disembodied puppet limbs the next morning, he finally heard the front door open and shut gently.

“Oh, look who finally decided to show up, y’know, if you like your dinner cold and inedible you could just ask Temari to make it right?” he called out, putting on his most annoyed expression ready for when Gaara entered the kit-

What.

“What.”

The serious and respected Kazekage, the boy who had once held a monster – once almost been a monster – one of the most powerful men in the world, stood uncertainly in the doorway, one child in each arm and a third child draped over his back, all three of them fast asleep.

“ _Wha_ -“

“Onii-san, I need help, how quickly can you build three beds?”

Kankuro never got around to finishing his list.

\---


	2. Storm's a Coming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this isn’t a oneshot anymore… how bout that.  
> Yeah, cause this family is the worstbest thing that has ever happened to me I’ll be writing a few more things with them, just as and when I get the inspiration (though pre-warning I’ve already got like 10 ideas of varying lengths, genres and qualities). If anyone has Sand Fam scenes/ideas/headcanons they’d like me to write, I’d love to hear em! (no guarantees of course, buuut I’ve not got much going on in my life at the mo so… yeah. No pairing specific ones though please, I wanna keep this general and fairly open, ya know?)  
> (Honestly I'm really not sure about this chap so feedback would be super welcome)

\---

A dull, distant rumble broke the still, early morning quiet.

The Kazekage was cleaning up the plates that had been left out on the table all night; he’d not had the opportunity to eat, what with all the chaos of finding places for three new additions to the household to sleep and trying to explain to Kankuro _‘What the effing ever-loving ef happened?’_ and _‘What the effing ever-loving ef were you thinking?’_

Judging by his brother’s grumpy declaration at four am that he was too tired to deal with this right now and not to wake him up for at least twelve hours, he hadn’t quite managed to convince him that he knew what he was doing.

Likely because he had no idea what he was doing.

He sighed as he set the last of the pans onto the drying rack and let as much of the water on his hands drip back into the sink as possible, before grabbing a towel – he’d use the dirty water for his cacti later, nothing got wasted in Suna – and leaning heavily against the counter.

He felt tired, it was still an unusual sensation for him, he’d spent so long going without sleep that it had become a deeply-ingrained habit and even now he didn’t sleep for more than a few hours a week at most. Sleep itself was… unpleasant for him, getting to that state in the first place required actual effort and concentration on his part and once he was there it was never long before vivid nightmares and the creeping, shadowy sensation of claws tearing at his psyche woke him in a cold sweat. He knew it was all just in his head, lingering traces of fear he felt the few traumatic times he had fallen asleep when he did still contain Shukaku, but apparently those memories had scarred him deep enough to leave long-lasting effects, even years after cause of that fear had been lost.

Another rumble echoed through the building, closer now, louder.

It probably wouldn’t take long for the full brunt of the storm to hit them, the first of the season was always the shortest though; hopefully the longer, heavier rains that caused flash floods wouldn’t arrive for another few days.

Gaara wearily pushed himself up and went to check on his three new… charges. He wasn’t quite sure what to call them yet, technically he hadn’t adopted them yet, the orphanage always required a minimum five-week trial period to see if the prospective home was a good fit for the child. Honestly he wasn’t sure if this _was_ a good home.

He didn’t know anything about raising a child. Barely knew anything about children period, his home was large enough certainly, he and his siblings had lived here all their lives – well not Temari anymore… good gods Temari, how was he going to explain this to her? – but there were no rooms prepared for a child to live in, he’d panicked when he first brought them home, trying to work out where he could buy three mattresses when it’d just passed midnight while Kankuro built bed frames. His brother had helpfully pointed out that the bed in his own room went unused ninety percent of the time and was big enough to hold three _adults_ , three kids would fit just fine.

Once he’d set them down – Shinki and Yodo had both only been pretending to sleep since before he’d got home, but he didn’t call them out on it, sure they had plenty of reason to not feel comfortable letting their guard down completely in his presence – and covertly removed any weaponry and classified documentation left in his room (not much, but he did intend to ask Kankuro what one of his bottles of poison was doing in there), he’d immediately locked the door behind him, children, or so he’d heard, were always in danger and given the average amount of weaponry in any shinobi household and his brothers propensity for leaving vials of deadly narcotics and mechanisms that involved far more blades than strictly necessary lying around the house he wasn’t going to take any chances.

Besides, he’d scattered some sand around the bed, any movement and he’d be up the stairs and ready to greet them and ask if they needed anything.

So, while he was at least somewhat secure in the knowledge that they were safe and wouldn’t require any attention for a few hours hopefully, he had gone downstairs and been confronted by his brother, whose questions he couldn’t give any reasonable answers.

Once that conversation had ended – poorly, with his brother frustrated and himself confused – he’d moved to his conservatory, sat in the corner, surrounded by his cacti and finally let himself have the breakdown he’d been needing since he left the orphanage three small bodies heavier.

Of course it probably wouldn’t look like much of a breakdown to anyone watching who didn’t know him well, the only sound was his breathing turning heavy and uneven, he didn’t move a muscle other than his fists tightening around his knees and his shoulders tensing up.

But his mind was in chaos. Thoughts and doubts whirling around his head, what had even brought this on? He’d _never_ been interested in having a child, the topic had come up in a few council meetings, the title of Kazekage had always been an inherited one, but he couldn’t imagine marrying anyone, certainly not purely for procreation. Besides he’d been making steps to change the system into a more democratic one, like Konoha had, where anyone had a chance at the title and it was _earned_ by ability and attitude, not gifted by a fluke of birth.

More than any of that though… he was scared.

Gaara had never recovered from his traumatic childhood, the things that had been done to him – by his own father and uncle, of all people – had left his mind and heart shattered for the longest time. It was only with the help of Naruto and his siblings that he ever found the strength to start putting the pieces back together.

How was he supposed to raise a child, when he’d never had a childhood?

It wasn’t until the rising sun started lighting the night that he had calmed enough to let himself out of his self-inflicted timeout, it was still four in the morning, everyone else in the house was fast asleep, but he couldn’t stay trapped in his own head any longer, which had lead him to the kitchen and a table of dirty dishes that had been sitting unattended for hours.

Housework wasn’t as good a distraction as his regular work, but it had taken his mind off of his big life-altering decision, for a short while at least.

Now, he trudged up the stairs and paused at the door to his bedroom. It spoke volumes about how tired and unfocused he was that he hadn’t noticed the quiet humming from inside until he had got this close.

It was a familiar tune, a very common lullaby in Suna, it had never been used on him – for obvious reasons – but he had the vague memories of hearing it filter through open windows while he walked the streets at night and even Yashamaru singing it to Kankuro and Temari some nights…

The Kazekage wasn’t sure whether to intrude or not, this seemed to be a calming habit for them, but that suggested that there was a reason they weren’t calm, but they were still nervous around him and he didn’t even know what he could say to help them right now-

No, he’d already made the decision to help them; backing out now wouldn’t benefit anyone, them least of all.

He gently knocked on the door and unlocked it enough to peek his head through the gap.

“It’s very early, is everything alright? I can get you some water if you’re thirsty,” he said, trying desperately not to accidentally scare them.

Their heads all snapped towards him, the three children were huddled together on the huge bed, Yodo being hugged on either side by her two friends (brothers?), she was holding a pillow tightly around her head, tiny hands keeping it jammed firmly over her ears.

Gaara wasn’t the best at picking up on emotions, he’d be the first to admit that, but there was one emotion that he could pinpoint with an almost unnatural accuracy and that emotion was fear. Right now the fragile looking blond was radiating it in waves, his first instinct was to try and force Shukaku back into his mental cage, but there _was_ no-

A rumble tore through the silence, Yodo whimpered and twisted her eyes shut tightly.

“Oh…” the Kazekage pushed the door further open so that he could slip through and close it softly behind him, then he awkwardly shuffled to the bed, sitting on the corner farthest away from the trio, scared to make them uncomfortable.

The girl opened her eyes again and glared at him, throwing the pillow away urgently, she had probably meant for it to hit the wall, but it just flopped down at the edge of the bed. “Go away! We’re fine, I don’t need anything, just leave already,” she snapped.

“Yodo, it is ok to be scared-“

“I’m not scared!”

The redhead blinked as he tried to work out what was going through her head. She didn’t want to admit she was afraid, though he couldn’t understand why, it was glaringly obvious – even someone who didn’t have his eerie ability to detect fear could see it – and there was no shame in being afraid of thunder, in fact it made perfect sense given her background, the streets offered little protection and desert storms were wild and violent, even causing flash floods, which would be impossible to avoid if you were caught out in one.

But then again… He thought of all the times his sister had reacted to death and tragedy with laughter and cold logic, when his brother had taken his fear of the monster his little brother had once been and turned it into bitterness and disobedience towards his father and superiors. When he himself had trampled down his own emotions because they were so painful, to the point that he was still relearning them to this day.

Emotions were complicated and he was certainly not the person to intuit what the best response to them was, so until he learned what he could say to assuage her fear, he would just have to be honest with himself and accept this limitation, for now.

“Alright, I will leave you be, just know that this house is sturdy, even the strongest storm hasn’t been able to damage it. You should all try and get some more sleep, if you can, I’ll be downstairs if you need anything... I’m making breakfast in a few hours, do you have any requests?”

The trio glanced at each other in silent communication, another rumble of thunder echoed through the room and Yodo make a tight noise in the back of her throat, but her brothers holding her a little tighter seemed to calm her some.

“Uhm, well,” Araya said, “something sweet? And filling, um, if that’s ok…”

Gaara smiled gently at them, “Of course it is, I’ll call you when it’s ready,” he said, then he rose to his feet and walked over to the door.

“Nothin’ with nuts, Shinki’s allergic,” Yodo muttered as he was just about to leave, he paused long enough to nod and then closed the door softly behind him.

The Kazekage leaned heavily against the wall as soon as he was out. This was definitely going to be a trying few weeks, but… he was making progress, his smile widened a little more and, he had to admit, something about these three made him _want_ to try this. He pushed himself up and marched to the storeroom, it was unlikely, but they might have some old books on childcare.

And a cookbook with sweet recipes.

\---


	3. Family Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter and some new characters to boot! Honestly I was expecting this chap to be a lot funnier when I started, but then it got kinda sad and feelingy, still though, it was a good excuse to explore the hugely complicated sand sib relationship (and also some of my own conflicting feelings about certain things that happened in canon that will probably become glaringly obvious once you get to them parts) ((alsoalso, I just realised that parts of this might come off a bit sandcesty? That’s not my intention, I just think they have a very close sibling bond))  
> Enjoy!

\---

The clouds were beautiful today.

The whole day had been pretty lovely actually, sunny – but not _too_ sunny – warm, but not stifling and for once he didn’t have any annoying things he had to do, like chores or errands.

Or work.

Shikamaru let out a long, contented sigh, simply taking in the nice view from his porch and listening to the gentle, soothing sounds of the forest. Even his young son lying next to him didn’t need to be taken care of right now, Shikadai was quite happily snoozing away; somehow, just being in the presence of his own creation made him feel a strange, tight, tingling sensation in his chest.

His mother had claimed it was love, his teammates said he was proud. His wife had just scoffed and teased him about indigestion.

He couldn’t help smiling thinking about that.

She really was something else and he wouldn’t change that for the world.

The sliding door to the house suddenly slammed open, with an intensity that left him wondering how much structural damage had just been inflicted upon it.

“Get up losers, we’re going to Suna!”

And, to think, the day had started out so well.

\---

Temari wasn’t one for nostalgia – her childhood had left very few positive memories for her to reminisce on – but, as she saw the edges of the sprawling Kazekage estate, she found herself quickening her pace, feet gliding as naturally over the hard, dirt paths, as they did over the flowing sea of sand they’d crossed on their way here.

It’d been far too long since she last visited, almost a whole year; though Kankuro had dropped by to visit a few months back; he’d claimed to have had a mission in the general area, but Gaara had later confirmed her suspicions that he’d gone out of his way to see her.

She still missed her brothers more than she could really explain, even to herself.

And apparently things had been quite hectic while she’d been away, if Gaara’s rushed and unexplained letter a week ago was anything to go by.

“Tem, do you want to slow down a little?” Shikamaru called out to her, she turned back to see him and her boy dragging pretty damn far behind. She had been setting a fast pace for them, especially Shikadai, who had had to be carried the bulk of the journey; now he was walking, but his curiosity at this unfamiliar environment – had it really been three years since she last brought him, already? – was slowing him down and her lazy husband certainly wasn’t encouraging him to move any faster.

“No I don’t! I’m gonna go ahead, you two can either hurry up or make your own way,” she said, normally she’d be teasing, but in this case she really wasn’t going to wait around.

The blond didn’t wait for an answer, she just launched herself into a run, reaching the front door of her old family home in record time. It hadn’t changed at all. She didn’t bother knocking, the house was huge and besides, she still had a key. The entryway was as grand and overwhelming as always; she easily stretched her senses for any indication of where her brothers were, hearing chatter and movement from the direction of the kitchen, she moved to track them down.

As she got closer to her destination, she started to pick up on things that had changed; there were boxes – small, large, plain, bright – scattered in various rooms she passed, scuff marks were just visible on the stone tiled floor, one of their father’s old antique vases was conspicuously missing from its usual place in the hallway.

More than any of that though, was the sound.

For as long as she could remember, the house had always had a stifling stillness hanging over it, when she was a toddler and had yet to know true heartbreak, it was simply too grand and her father too strict to allow anything to disturb it. Then, when her youngest brother had been born, a different kind of stillness reigned, the silence born of fear; she and Kankuro had always stayed quiet when they knew Gaara was in the house, even before they had truly understood what he was, because father had told them not to disturb him under any circumstances – a rule they had learned to respect very quickly.

And after those fateful chunin exams – so very, very long ago – the silence had changed again, this time to one filled with tension and uncertainty, as Gaara navigated the arduous path back to humanity and she and her brother nervously walked beside him, too scared to hold his hand, but too hopeful to let him walk it alone.

It had never really left, that oppressive feeling; not when Gaara had proved himself worthy and stable enough for the title of Kazekage, not when she and Kankuro had learned how to be truly comfortable in his presence.

Not when she had made the decision to leave, to live with the man she hated to admit she loved.

Especially not then, she hated thinking about the fights she and Kankuro had gotten into when she first announced her intentions. They were never directly about her moving away, but the underlying reason for the hostility was always clear to them both, though neither ever acknowledged it.

She couldn’t blame him though, even in the worst of times, there had always been the unspoken pact between the two siblings – three, eventually – that they would never abandon each other, even if they knew staying together would cause problems for them, even if the laws that be demanded it, even if the world came crashing down around them, they would always be there for each other.

And now, she wasn’t. Of course, she would always be ready to help her brothers – nothing could hope to stop her – but there was an unspoken sense of loss for all of them. Even as she’d made the decision to move to Konoha, to spend the rest of her life with that lazy, stupid, infuriating genius; she had still felt the loss of her siblings, deep in her bones. She wouldn’t be able to spend long, boring days bickering with Kankuro about everything and nothing, she wouldn’t have Gaara to talk to on those nights when sleep simply wouldn’t come.

She wouldn’t have the paradoxical familiar comfort of the suffocating atmosphere of the house she had grown up in, the air that had always stubbornly lingered – even after so many life-altering transformations it had been host to – she could still feel it now, that familiar, comforting, uncomfortable silence, but it seemed… lighter, somehow.

“Oh yeah? How are you gonna stop me, huh?”

The voice was unfamiliar to her, but it definitely belonged to a young girl, Temari hastened her steps.

“Are you kidding? I’m one of the most powerful jounin in Suna, I’ve fought against S-ranked criminals and won, I’m the leader of the Puppetry Core and right hand of the Kazekage and _you’re_ just some uppity brat with an ego problem,” her brother’s voice was a more welcome noise than she’d care to admit, even as his arrogant bragging made her reflexively want to smack him upside the head.

“I am not!”

“You so are.”

“Am not!”

“So are.”

“Arghhhh!” the girls screech of aggravation was followed by stomping footsteps and Kankuro’s always aggravating cackle.

She finally reached the entrance to the kitchen and had to take a moment to process everything she was seeing. Kankuro was running circles around the large dining table, pursued by a tiny, slip of a girl – though with her blond hair cropped so short, she could easily pass for a boy – while two young boys sat eating their lunch, she could only see the front of the one facing her, his blank eyes had snapped to her the second she’d entered the doorway, but he didn’t do anything more. Gaara was leaning against a counter, eyes closed and fingers rubbing at both of his temples, he looked notably more dishevelled than usual – his casual t-shirt creased and bags under his eyes darker than she remembered.

“You’re one to talk Kankuro, here you are bigging yourself up as some great ninja and you haven’t even noticed me standing here,” she finally said, smirk plastered across her face.

Her brother skidded to a halt, spinning round to look at her. “First thing you say to me in five months and it’s an insult? Some sister you are,” he snapped, grinning wide as he ambled over to her and wrapped her in a suffocating bear hug.

“Temari, I wasn’t expecting you for another ten hours, you didn’t push your family too hard, did you?” Gaara said; shaken out of his daze, he moved to greet his oldest sibling with a light embrace and subtle smile.

“I carried Shikadai most of the way and the cry-baby could use the exercise, they’re taking their time to be tourists, but they’ll be here, eventually,” she smiled back, gently patting his shoulder before pulling away to take in the whole scene again.

The girl was now sitting next to the blank-eyed boy, glowering at her suspiciously, the child who had previously been hidden from her view was now peeking over the back of his chair; the woman was shocked by his face, it was, well, it wasn’t the worst she’d ever seen – ninja life hardened you to all manner of horrifying wounds and scars – but she felt deeply uncomfortable seeing such a face on a child so young.

She glanced back to her youngest brother and raised an eyebrow pointedly.

Gaara cleared his throat and led her to a seat at the table, where she had a clear view of all three kids. “Children, this is Temari, mine and Kankuro’s older sister; Temari, these are my adopted… charges, Yodo,” he gestured towards the girl, “Shinki,” the impassive boy next to her, “and Araya,” the boy with the disfiguring facial scar.

She shifted a little awkwardly in her seat, she’d never been much good with kids, “Hi, nice to meet you.”

None of the kids said anything for a long minute, the skinny girl was still glaring distrustfully at her, Shinki hadn’t looked at her once since she’d first announced herself – instead staring into his cup of juice like it held the answers to every question in the cosmos. The scarred boy was glancing uncertainly between her, his siblings and his… father.

This was going to take a lot of getting used to. For everyone involved.

Finally, the anxious looking Araya broke the tension, by sheepishly waving and muttering a nearly inaudible, “Nice to meet you too.”

Kankuro snorted and moved to slump down into the empty chair next to her, “Well, now that that’s out of the way, Gaara, how about that tea?”

“Oh, yes,” Temari’s youngest brother murmured – he looked more spaced out than she’d seen in _decades_ – as he moved to the counter and poured out boiling water into two cups, wordlessly grabbing a third from the cupboard.

The blond woman tsked and smacked the puppeteer’s arm, familiar smirk working its way onto her face. “What, too lazy to get it yourself? It looked like you had plenty of energy to be bullying little kids a few minutes ago.”

“He was already making it, besides, I just sat down.”

“And the bullying?” she asked, still teasing – Kankuro had outgrown his true bullying phase years ago, not long after the chunin exams.

This time the victim in question spoke up, “He couldn’t bully me if he tried! ‘e was just trying to stop me stealin’ his cookies and being a shitfuck,” she stated confidently. Temari blinked at the foul language, that was unexpected and, judging by Kankuro’s howling laughter and Gaara’s dropping of the spoon he was holding, it was apparently new to her brothers too.

The older blond found herself liking this kid, “Yeah, you’ll just have to get used to that I’m afraid, but if you ever need to get any payback you can never go wrong with a few insects down his shirt-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, that’s uncalled for, she’s already a little terror, you don’t need to go giving her ideas,” her brother cut in, glaring her down, though his shoulders were still shaking as he tried to restrain his snickers.

“Well, maybe you should stop being such a shitfuck then,” she shot back, already snorting at herself, as the sound of Gaara’s head thudding against a cupboard reached her ears.

It was good to be home.

\---

Shikamaru was beginning to wonder why he’d even come, his wife was sitting next to her red headed brother on the couch in the living room, the other brother sitting next to her, his long legs slung over his siblings’ laps – Temari had complained and pinched him a few times, but made no move to break the contact.

Meanwhile, his only son was sitting at the dining table with his new cousins, well, Araya at least; the other two were sitting further apart just watching their adoptive brother as he showed Shikadai some of his favourite drawings.

The shadow-nin himself was sitting in one of the unbearably hard chairs with them – he’d long ago accepted that people born in Suna apparently didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘comfort’ – trying to work out exactly what he had to offer in this situation. Sure, he was mostly just here to look after his son and, now, his niece and nephews too, because no way in hell was his wife going to be paying much attention to anyone other than her siblings after so long apart; he didn’t hold it against her, not that he really understood why she got so wrapped up in them whenever they met up, but he didn’t have any siblings, so that wasn’t surprising.

Besides, even if Temari was still tight-lipped about her past and her _deeply_ complicated relationship with her brothers, he knew enough of their life stories to understand how much they meant to each other. If he had to play babysitter while they caught up and worked through their feelings together, well, he wasn’t going to be happy about it, but he wasn’t going to complain either.

Not out loud anyway.

At least Shikadai was enjoying himself.

\---

Temari’s soft laughter drifted away into a contented sigh, being with her family again gave her a sense of peace she dearly missed.

“So, what’s with the kids, Gaara? I was pretty shocked to get your letter and seeing them all today… What the hell happened?”

Kankuro snorted, “That’s what I said.”

Her youngest brother sighed and ran a hand through his hair tiredly, he definitely looked exhausted. “Honestly, I’m not sure. I was doing a routine visit at the orphanage and those three, they were having problems with the other children, I had initially only planned to talk to them, see if I could find some way to help them.” His head dropped, deep red curls obscuring his frown only a little. “They… are like me. Like I was, they were heading down that dark path, I just, I want to give them a chance,” he said, his speech was never usually this faltering or rambling, a glaring sign that he was extremely stressed.

“So, this was a complete whim, no planning whatsoever?” she asked gently, nudging his shoulder with hers.

At Gaara’s simple nod, the blond hmm-ed thoughtfully, “Well, I can’t say that it was the best idea in the world-”

“That’s an understatement,” Kankuro interrupted.

“ _But_ , I think that it’s an admirable decision, wanting to help these kids, it’s the kind of thing that idiot Naruto would do,” she took a little joy in the tiny smile that crept onto his features, “and I think you’re right, those three do need a guiding hand and you’re a great person to care for them.”

He let out a soft, slightly hysteric-sounding, laugh – dear gods, how exhausted _was_ he? – and slowly moved his left hand towards his forehead, Temari slipped her hand into his before it got there; gently but resolutely pulling it back down to sit on her lap – or, on Kankuro’s legs, which were still annoyingly lying over hers.

“Gaara, listen to me, I know that right now you’re terrified and have no idea what you’re doing, but you’ll be fine, nobody expects you to pick up parenting immediately. I had no idea what to do when I first became pregnant, it took months of reading every baby book I could get my hands on to feel just a little confident in looking after a child and even then, the second Shikadai was born I was terrified all over again because none of it really prepared me for being a mother. To be honest, I still don’t feel like I know what I’m doing, you just need to take your time and not overthink it so much,” she said, squeezing his hand lightly.

“But I can’t take time with this, they need a carer _now_ ; making them wait while I adjust isn’t fair on them-”

“Gaara,” Kankuro finally spoke up, his voice terribly serious, “you’re not alone in this, I’ve been right here from the start, Matsuri-chan’s visited every day for the last week to see the brats, Baki-sensei has already helped you with getting the house in order and I think the kids like _him_ more than me at this point. You know we’ve got your back, that you don’t have to rush this; so, what’s the real problem?”

The elder siblings stared hard at the youngest, not accusingly, they didn’t want to make their brother feel attacked right now, but unrelenting and serious.

Temari suspected she already knew what the real issue was – she’d had to struggle with the same thing when she had her son – Kankuro certainly knew, judging by his firm tone of voice but sympathetic eyes. But they needed to hear it from Gaara and he needed to actually verbalise what was on his mind and admit that weakness to someone who wouldn’t judge him for it.

“I… I don’t know how to raise a child, I don’t even know what a normal childhood looks like, I never had one.” He turned his head to look at them, waiting for them to respond, uncertainty clearly visible in his eyes, even if his face looked blank as ever.

But, they still hadn’t gotten to the root of the issue.

The uncomfortable silence stretched on until Gaara finally dropped his head again, eyes squeezed tightly shut; when he finally spoke again, his words were rough and almost too low to hear.

“I don’t want to become him.”

And there it was. The implicit but unspoken spectre that had loomed over all of their lives since the first second they were born. Temari carefully passed the redhead’s hand over to Kankuro – who took it and grasped it gently – and then slowly raised her arm to rest around her baby brother’s, minutely shaking, shoulders. She pulled him in closer and leaned her head against his.

“We know, none of us do,” she breathed out.

“And it won’t happen,” Kankuro said firmly, “you’re already nothing like him Gaara, I’ve seen how you act around those three and it’s obvious you’d never treat them the way he treated us. We’re better people now than he ever was and if I ever see you slipping, then I’ll be the first to tell you.”

The youngest of the three didn’t respond, but his tight squeeze on his brother’s hand and heavy lean against his sister’s body let them know he’d heard them.

And if anyone was crying, then no one was going to judge. That would just be hypocritical.

\---


	4. Meeting Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty short chap, takes place alongside the previous one, but shows a bit of what the kids were up to! (don’t worry, the next chap _will_ be longer! I’m still trying to work out a proper update schedule for my three ongoing fics, but the next chap shouldn’t be more than a few weeks max)

\---

Interlude – Shikadai meets his cousins, angst, fluff

\---

Preparing himself for this day had been stressful, to say the least.

Yodo had told him he didn’t need to get so worked up, but he couldn’t help it; meeting new people was always nerve-wracking for him, especially so when they were such important people and, with the way Kaz- Gaara had spoken about his older sister and her family, these were _very_ important people.

The boy would’ve spent all morning standing in front of the mirror, picking out every one of his flaws, had his new siblings not dragged him down to the kitchen to get breakfast.

He’d calmed down after that, Yodo and Kankuro’s antics enough to make him laugh and forget about the looming storm of ‘Aunt Temari’ that was due in a few hours…

At least, until she had unexpectedly turned up way ahead of schedule.

But perhaps that had been a good thing, he hadn’t had hours to prepare and work himself up into a state over making a good impression and Yodo had made enough of a ruckus that he wasn’t the centre of attention. Plus, the woman hadn’t really had much of a reaction to his face, she gave him a strange look when she first saw it, but it only lasted a second and then she looked at him like she looked at Yodo and Shinki, like a normal kid – come to think of it, Gaara and Kankuro had had the same reaction, Araya wondered if it was a ninja thing or just something that ran in the family.

After an hour or so, he’d found himself feeling relaxed in her company, if a bit awkward.

Then a tired-looking man wandered into the room and the anxiety had started all over again.

“About time you showed up, what the hell have you two been doing for the last hour, did you need to take a ten minute break every yard or something?” Temari snapped, though her smile suggested that she wasn’t being serious.

The man groaned as he settled into a free chair next to his wife, “Sorry we can’t all stand this ridiculous heat; besides, Shikadai wanted to do a little sightseeing.”

A young boy – about their age from the looks of him – appeared from behind the man and jumped into the seat between Araya and Kankuro. He mumbled a greeting to ‘Uncle Kankuro and Uncle Gaara’, receiving a ruffle to his ponytail-ed hair from his uncle and a snap from his mother about speaking up, then he turned to the other children sitting at the table.

“Hey, I’m Shikadai, I guess you’re my new cousins, nice to meet you,” he said, nodding at each of them in turn, then setting his head down on the table.

Araya couldn’t believe it, he hadn’t given him a weird look at all, he wondered if the boy had somehow missed the giant, horrific scarring on his half-melted face; maybe he couldn’t see well, like Araya himself?

“Head off the table Shikadai!”

He groaned but did as his mother said, instead slumping his head onto his hand as he turned back to the three new siblings. “Man, you guys have it so lucky, mum’s always so strict, but Uncle Gaara and Uncle Kankuro let you get away with anything,” he mumbled to the nervous boy next to him. Araya glanced over to Temari, who didn’t look even remotely impressed.

“What was that?” she asked, tone sweet, but smile razor-sharp.

Shikadai had the look of someone who’d just seen Death. He kept his gaze fixed on the other kids and breathed out a few words, only _just_ audible to Araya, “Do you guys know any good hiding places?”

The young boy glanced to his two best friends and a silent message was passed along instantly.

By the time they were down the hall and up the stairs, Temari’s shouting had become little more than an echo.

\---

They’d decided after about ten minutes of hiding out in a cramped closet, that it was probably safe to come out, though Shikadai couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder occasionally – his mother had the terrifying ability to sneak up on you when you were least expecting it.

So, instead of going back to the kitchen to face her wrath, the four kids had decided to play upstairs for a while.

“Your room’s pretty cool, what’s with all the boxes?” Shikadai asked, as he took in his cousins’ bedroom. It was big – but every room in this house was big, so that wasn’t surprising – walls and floor the same dull sandy-brown stone and tile as everywhere else in Suna; there were three single beds that had all been pushed together to make one huge bed in one corner of the room, a large chest of draws and wardrobe were shunted off into the other corner, draws half open and mostly empty.

The rest of the floor space was either empty or covered in dozens of boxes of all sizes, some open, some closed, some obviously store-bought, others unmarked and plain.

Shikadai wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all. Or his new family members.

Yodo was the first to respond, “We only started living here like a week ago, we ain’t unpacked everything yet,” she mumbled, jumping onto the bed, where she continued to watch him like a hawk. She didn’t seem to trust him very much, nor did Shinki for that matter.

But he could live with that; they seemed pretty nervous around everyone, so he didn’t take it personally.

“So, what do you wanna do?” he asked, it was mostly a courtesy, he’d be quite happy to just sit down and take a nap, but his mother’s words about playing nice and being friendly with his cousins hovered over him like a ghost, sending a chill down his spine – besides, they all seemed pretty cool.

The three glanced between each other for a moment, but eventually Yodo shrugged her bony shoulders and Araya went to dig around in one of the new-looking boxes, he came back with an armful of drawing supplies and a shy smile. “Uhm, we can draw for a bit, if you want,” he said, tone growing more unsure as he went on, “or, we could go play ball outside?”

Shikadai openly grimaced at the thought of going back out into the stifling heat, he hated physical effort at the best of times, running around and getting all sweaty when it was hot enough to melt your shoes to the ground did not sound like fun.

“I like drawing, you got a green pencil?”

\---

He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to bring it up or not; on the one hand, they’d been getting along quite nicely all day without any incidents and he didn’t want to potentially mess that up. On the other hand, the uncertainty and fear had been gnawing at the back of his mind, meaning he’d never quite been able to enjoy himself, always too distracted second-guessing Shikadai’s apparent obliviousness.

There was just _no way_ he’d not noticed the scars.

He could definitely see, he’d done a – really good, Araya had been a little bit in awe seeing it – drawing of the view outside their window and just the way he’d acted all day suggested he had perfectly normal eyesight.

So why hadn’t he given him the weird looks? The pitying looks, the disgusted looks, the scared looks, the harsh words whispered behind his back, the mocking laughter right to his face?

Araya was desperate to ask his cousin all of those questions, but he was scared of what the answer might be.

He stole a surreptitious glance at Shikadai, who was barely keeping his eyes open as he stared at the flickering screen of the TV. As the evening had turned to night, the family had all gathered in the living room; the Kazekage and his two siblings all sitting on one couch – chatting, bickering and laughing together, he’d never seen Gaara look happier – Shikamaru had sat in the one comfy chair, his son settled on his lap as they both tuned out to some action film, Araya, Shinki and Yodo had all settled on the floor in the far corner, piling a few cushions filched from the bedrooms into a makeshift fort.

A sharp elbow dug into his side, “Hey, you’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Yodo whispered.

He shook his head, a little too hard if Yodo’s unimpressed look was anything to go by. He sighed and nodded his head once – there was little point in trying to lie to her, he knew, but she and Shinki always got so overprotective and he just didn’t want them to worry about him. “It’s nothing really, I just… he hasn’t mentioned it at all, what if he’s just another bully in disguise?”

“Then I’ll beat the hell outta him,” she said, as though it was that simple and, as far as she was concerned, it probably was; but he didn’t want to have her get in trouble for his sake and he didn’t think their new carer would look kindly on them if they attacked his nephew.

If they lost their new home, just when they’d been given a chance at a new life, he’d never be able to forgive himself. “No! Don’t, please, he hasn’t actually done anything and you’ll get in trouble.”

“So what? Don’t care what happens to me, if someone’s mean to you or Shinki then they’re gonna get what’s coming to ‘em,” she snorted, her grin was just a little _too_ eager at the thought “but, if it makes you feel any better, he seems alright; Shinki has a good feeling about him and he’s not given you any looks when you’ve not been paying attention,” she said, giving as gentle a smile as she was capable of.

Araya glanced back at the boy who was now completely asleep on his father’s lap, body draped over the arm of the chair, the man who looked almost exactly like him had already dropped off an hour ago, head bent over the chair’s back awkwardly – not that he seemed to care.

The boy bit his lip, maybe things really were as good as they seemed and he’d finally met someone else who wouldn’t judge him for something that he could not control or change…

As he was staring at Shikadai, he suddenly became aware of the dark green eyes staring back, he froze. _Great, now he’ll think I’m even more creepy than he already did_ , the thoughts whirled around his head, teetering wildly, any minute now he was going to start crying because that’s _always_ what happened when he got these thoughts and he could already feel the stinging in his left eye-

His cousin gave him a sleepy grin and a lazy thumbs up, then closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

All in all, Araya considered this a good day.

\---

 


	5. Thief in the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, remember that time I said it’d only be a few weeks max before I updated btc again? Good times.  
> In all seriousness I’m sorry it’s been such a ridiculous wait for this, I’ve been distracted by work and uni and depression and my other fics (though now that I’ve officially Given Up on uni that’s one less thing to worry about) but don’t worry, I have no intention of dropping this series, it might just be a longish wait between chaps until I’ve cleared my ongoings up a bit! Thanks for being so patient everyone, it means a lot to know that there are people out there enjoying my favourite family ever along with me!
> 
> This time we get a Yodo-centric chap, she’s kinda my fave of the kids to write tbh and there’s just so much about her character that I’m intrigued by (or at least, what I’ve decided her character is, who knows what’s happening in the manga rn cause I sure don’t) be warned that this chap gets kinda heavy at the end.  
> (also I’ve gone back and made some minor edits to the previous chaps, just fixing typos and improving flow kinda stuff so Yeah)  
>  ~~these kids don’t sound at all like kids but given that this is a world where it’s apparently completely reasonable for a six-year-old to be accepted into the armed forces I think I’m good~~  
>  Anyways, sorry for the wait, but hope you enjoy as always!

\---

Outside, the rain pummelled the ground hard, it had started over an hour ago and likely wouldn’t stop for another two or three.

The dry rock and sand would drink up most of it, but eventually the water would overfill them both, flooding the streets and running towards the city’s intricate channel system instead, where – provided the storm didn’t have an unexpected surge – it would drain down into the underground reservoirs, filling them just enough to last until the next rainy season with careful rationing.

Inside the thick walls of his home though, there was little to indicate the force of nature raging outside, just a steady, soothing, rhythmic tapping against the window, a pleasant white noise to focus on as he worked.

Gaara’s pen scratched carefully across the rough paper, every motion fluid and efficient. His handwriting was always good, but here especially he didn’t want to make a mistake and have to rewrite the whole page, his financial advisor was a stickler for neat paperwork and she wouldn’t hesitate to chew him out just because of a few smudges or scratched out typos.

He was often asked why he put up with it, mostly by Kankuro, but he couldn’t see it as anything but an improvement; in just under ten years he’d gone from having to claw progressive legislation from under a pack of wolves more concerned with their appearance of power than the good of their people, to just having to triple-check his penmanship on important documents, which he would’ve done in the first place in all honesty, it was simply in his nature to be exacting about such things.

Still, he’d have to take a break soon if he didn’t want his hand to start cramping, he had plenty of time to finish it off before sunrise and without any distractions from the rainy night.

He quickly finished off his sentence and placed his pen in its holder, stretching out his hand and gradually working out the strain running down his wrist until, halfway through his exercises, he heard a distant thud.

It was quiet, but didn’t match the drumming rain against the walls and was too short to be thunder, he absently grabbed the miniature gourd he kept in his study – the one for personal defence – and started working through his home. It was unlikely that anyone would be daring or skilled enough to break into the Kazekage estate, it was probably just Kankuro doing some late-night tinkering, but lingering thoughts of assassins hiding in the shadows still crept into his mind and he _had_ dismissed his ANBU guard before the storm hit, if anyone was going to try and attack him, this would be the best opportunity.

Winding his way through the halls of the large building, he first checked the occupied bedrooms; he could hear the soft breathing of the kids through the wall.

Kankuro’s door was open wide enough to reveal him asleep at his desk, with a screwdriver in one hand and a disembodied arm in the other. Gaara sighed and grabbed the blanket off the messy bed to throw over his brother’s hunched form, no doubt he’d be complaining about his back hurting in the morning, but that would just have to serve as a lesson about working so late.

There was another noise that cut through the rain – much clearer now that he was listening out for it – a clatter cut short.

He followed his senses downstairs, then through the hall and as he got closer to the kitchen he began to pick up on other sounds, steady breathing, light swishing of fabric, a hushed growl; clearly whoever it was wasn’t a ninja.

The room was pitch black when he glanced through the doorway, but he’d always been able to see in the dark, so it wasn’t difficult to pick out the figure crouched on the counter, rifling through one of the cupboards.

Gaara blinked and stepped fully into the room, finally getting the attention of the burglar, who froze in place.

“Yodo?” he asked, flicking the light switch and watching her eyes squeeze shut at the sudden brightness. “What are you doing up so late?”

She opened her eyes and was immediately scowling at him, “Nothing!”

Well that was clearly a lie, he surveyed the room trying to find answers. Everything looked normal, the only thing out of place were the skinny girl and the contents of the pantry scattered across the worktop.

He slowly inched forwards, careful to keep his guard down and not frighten her, picking up a jar and turning it around in his hands; jerky. “Ah… you know you don’t have to do this, if you’re hungry you can just tell me, I’ll make something for-”

“I’m not hungry,” she snapped, leaping off the counter and scurrying out of the room, her footsteps pounding up the stairs.

Gaara blinked and wondered what he had done wrong this time.

And did she really think he hadn’t noticed her pocketing a pack of almonds?

\---

She frowned down at the page, the distinction between the white paper and the black ink was clear, but the lines and squiggles were utterly meaningless.

“Ugh, this is so _boring_ , c’mon can’t we just go play or something?”

Araya gave her his best scandalised gasp – a speciality of his – and shook his head so fast it looked like it might go flying off any second. “No! No nonono, we’re supposed to get all our sums done before Kaz- Gaara comes home!”

She groaned and slammed her face into her open book, mentally willing her friend to stop being such a stick in the mud, though she wouldn’t dare say that to his face.

“He’s right,” Shinki muttered, still focused on the workbook that had been dropped off by Yumiko-san – apparently no longer living at the orphanage wasn’t enough to get them out of their schoolwork.

“He never said we _had_ to, he just gave us the books and left,” she said and it was true, Gaara had entered their room before just before he had to leave for work, dropped the three slim textbooks on their dresser said ‘For you,’ and went off to his oh-so-important Kazekage duties, whatever they were.

Araya immediately countered with, “It was implied,” but even he was starting to look unsure of himself.

Perfect, he was already wavering, just a little more prodding should convince him to ditch the work for a game of hide-and-seek and once the goody two shoes was won over Shinki would inevitably follow. “Yeah but he didn’t say we had to do them all, he didn’t say we had to do _any_ of them, so we’ve already done way more than expected, so let’s just take a break!”

“No, we can’t, what if Yumiko-san finds out? She’ll kill us! And we already got a week without any schoolwork,” he said, voice unusually firm.

“But it’s hard and _boring_ ,” she turned to Shinki again, vainly hoping for some backup, but he was deeply enthralled with the numbers of his book and pointedly ignoring the argument. She scowled and stared hard at her book laid out on the floor; it wasn’t that she couldn’t do the work, she totally could, it’s just that after only a few sums she felt so frustrated that the numbers all blurred together and her head started to hurt, “I just don’t get why we’ve gotta do all this, who needs adding anyways?”

Araya gave her a sympathetic look, one which she immediately turned away from, but she couldn’t block out his voice unfortunately. “I know it’s difficult, but, it’s just… things have been so great since we came here, everyone’s been so nice to us and we don’t have to listen to Ichiro being nasty anymore and we’ve had so many nice new things and I… I just really don’t want to mess this up, what if he thinks we’re not good enough and gets rid of us?”

Well shit. She wasn’t gonna be able to change his mind and she wasn’t about to upset her friend either, she groaned, but still pulled him into a one armed hug, “Hey what’re ya worrying about that for? He ain’t gonna throw us out just over something so stupid, just gimme a hand with these sums so we can go play after.” Her words seemed to cheer him up, but she wished she didn’t still have that awful feeling of bleakness gnawing at her chest.

\---

The house wasn’t empty, but it was quiet. It’d have to be good enough. Yodo casually stepped into the hall and started through the vast maze of walls and doors.

Ideally she would’ve waited until nightfall to start her sneaking around, but she’d quickly learned that her latest ‘guardian’ just did not sleep, ever. It certainly made things more difficult for her, but she’d quickly found ways around it.

No midnight jaunts, it was easier and safer to wait till both Gaara and Kankuro left for work – unfortunately neither one had a reliable routine and there were days where their shifts didn’t overlap, or where one would return unexpectedly, but luckily she had good hearing and was quick on her feet, she’d stayed out of trouble for the most part.

Keep away from windows and doors – there were ninja guards all around the house at all times, who had more than once had to stop her from sneaking outside, she hadn’t been told off for it yet, but she didn’t want to push her chances.

Don’t steal big and don’t steal often – an old rule, reinforced when she’d had that close call with a blanket taken from the store closet, she’d had to hide it amongst the laundry when Kankuro started asking questions.

So far she’d gotten away with everything, Shinki was helping her out with that, silently looking the other way when she slipped out of a room and keeping Araya distracted, but she had a feeling the others were starting to get suspicious. Gaara hadn’t spoken to her about finding her ransacking the kitchen last week, but sometimes she’d feel his creepy blank eyes on her, as though waiting for her to slip up again, sometimes she swore she still felt his gaze even when she _knew_ he wasn’t in the house.

Kankuro was less obvious, but he’d sometimes shoot her a weird look, like he knew more than he was letting on.

Either way, she’d been a lot more careful these last few days, it had actually ended up working in her favour; after being forced to find a more suitable hiding place for her stash than the neglected spot she’d found in the garden her first day here – and, with the rainy season still only halfway through, she didn’t particularly want to leave things outside anyway – she’d instead scouted out the disused parts of the enormous building, which was most of it, the Kazekage and his brother only used about five of the rooms and the only other room that was regularly visited was the bedroom the kids had been given when they first arrived.

Not only had she found some secluded areas perfect for stockpiling the things she’d been thieving for the last few weeks, but she’d also found dozens of long-forgotten rooms, covered in dust so thick she left footprints in it and filled with all sorts of items that were perfect targets for her sly hands.

Old bedrooms with blankets more dust than cloth, an abandoned kitchen with all sorts of implements she could think of some entertaining uses for, a pantry that had been mostly emptied – but for a few tins and packages she’d had to wrestle from a family of rats – a room filled with all sorts of weapons and a wall of creepy puppets like Kankuro had; she’d quickly left that one alone, she knew from painful experience that ninja guarded their tools well and she didn’t feel like finding out just how long explosive tags could last.

Nothing had been touched in decades probably, so it wasn’t like anyone was gonna miss them.

And besides, if these idiots had enough money to just forget about all the useful or expensive stuff in their over-sized home, then you could say that they _deserved_ to have it stolen. At least then someone would get some use out of them.

Not that she was planning to do anything with her stash… exactly. Not yet anyway.

She wasn’t going to leave without her friends and, as much as she hated it, they really did seem happier here. Just a bit. Well, Araya did at least and she and Shinki had both made the mutual, wordless decision to try and make this work, if only for his sake.

But she knew this wouldn’t last and when everything went to hell, she wanted to be prepared.

Just in case.

\---

“Our storm defences are holding up, for now, but our meteorology department has confirmed that there will be a storm surge in three days’ time, a flash flood is inevitable and we won’t be able to make necessary repairs under such conditions, damage will only be fixed once the season is over.”

The Kazekage sighed and brought a hand to his temple, eyes still scanning the report. “Is it at all possible to reinforce our defences before the surge hits?”

“It’s possible,” Baki said, pulling out a pre-prepared map with the city’s channels overlaid on top and laying it across the desk, “our channel system will be overwhelmed – there’s not much we can do about that – but if we can raise its walls a little and support them with sandbags we might be able to contain the worst of it, though it’s still likely that the slums and civilian sector will be in danger.”

His superior frowned at that; he never liked to think of his people being hurt. Baki watched as he studied the map, though his expression showed only mild irritation, he knew that Gaara was stressed right now, he had considered just taking care of this matter himself so as not to add any more to his former student’s already heavy workload, but Gaara was a workaholic to the extreme and he still had difficulties letting other people take charge, even if he trusted them unconditionally.

He continued with his initial plan, “We’ll have to evacuate the slums, the buildings there won’t be able to withstand a flood, though that means a lot of people will be left homeless until we can repair them. The civilians should be able to just fortify their homes, there’ll be minor damage, but they’ll live.”

Gaara nodded, then, slowly, the look in his eyes changed. “Can we re-route the flow?” he said, standing up and pointing to a distant part of the map, “Have some of our ninja dig temporary channels leading away from the slums, direct the flood to the derelict sector instead. I can bring in some extra sand from further out in the desert to help absorb the rain.”

Baki mentally worked through the requirements of how to make that happen, it was feasible, “That should help keep the damage to inhabited areas to a minimum, though I would suggest going ahead with the evacuation anyway, just in case.”

“Of course. Have a squadron comb the derelict sector too, there are likely homeless still dwelling there.”

He nodded to the jounin standing unobtrusively in the corner, “You got all that?”

“Yessir,” She said, already disappearing in a cloud of sand, leaving the two men alone.

The Kazekage slumped back down into his seat, still examining the map intently. He let out a sigh, “We’ll have to look into upgrading our flood controls once the rainy season is over.”

He snorted and sat heavily in the chair opposite his student, “I’m sure Hitoshi will be thrilled to hear that,” Gaara didn’t grimace openly, but his frown definitely deepened, “though I must say, I think you’re worrying too much, this is an unusual case, not an indication of years to come.”

“I’d rather not take that chance. Besides, it would be more cost effective to improve things now, than to wait for disaster to strike again.”

Baki nodded his agreement, but decided to let the subject drop, instead focusing on his leader.

Things had certainly been stressful these last few weeks; the wet season was always a time of mixed joy and strain, it brought the water that would sustain them for the next year, but it also tended to bring damage and chaos and this year’s storms being unexpectedly strong wasn’t making it any easier for Gaara, even without with the usual pressure of being Kage.

There had also been some tension between the allied nations, with the immediate threat of the war now almost ten years in the past, there was a mutual fear among world leaders that someone might decide the alliance was no long necessary, or that the smaller countries who were most damaged by the war might band together to overthrow the larger countries they’d held grudges against for so long. As one of the original and most ardent supporters of the allied nations, Gaara had been putting out fires for months trying to keep everyone together.

Not to mention those… other three little problems he’d recently brought upon himself.

He was tired, certainly, but that was fairly normal for him and only to be expected – he’d likely been keeping himself up for a few days now and would have to give in and get some sleep soon – but there was something far more worrying hiding behind his eyes. He was scared. Scared of what exactly, he couldn’t say, but the way his eyes couldn’t stay still for a second and the slightest tremor to his breathing gave him away to the well-trained eye.

Reading Gaara’s often non-existent expressions was a difficult skill to learn – one which only a handful of people could honestly say they really possessed – but learning how to best _apply_ that skill was even harder.

It was almost paradoxical; he was, by nature, a blunt person, if you asked him a direct question you often got a direct answer, no matter how tactless or insulting, however that was only the case until you got to his inner thoughts and feelings, which he guarded possessively, keeping private and hidden away deep in his psyche and only let slip when he was pushed in just the right way.

Knowing when to gently nudge, when to be direct and to-the-point, when to let him think in companionable silence, when to appeal to his role, when to appeal to the angry, selfish child who still had such a strong hold on the peaceful, noble, kind man he had become…

Even now, after so many years watching and learning, of seeing him grow up and change and improve in so many ways, he still never knew exactly what to say, what to do, to make him open up, to help relieve him of just a little of the stress he carried, constantly, behind his eyes. But that didn’t mean he would stop trying, because he’d once known a man who had no idea how to understand, or help the boy and he’d seen exactly what _not_ trying lead to.

And Gaara deserved better than that.

“So. What’s wrong?” Direct and to-the-point it was.

His former student blinked out of his thoughts and stared blankly at him. “Aside from the incoming storm, you mean?” He smirked and nodded – if he was being sarcastic, that was probably a good sign, it meant he was too tired to filter his words and hopefully wouldn’t shut him down.

“Nothing. Everything.” Gaara grunted and rubbed at his temples discreetly, “I’m sorry Baki, I’ve not been getting much rest lately.”

“That’s hardly surprising.”

He frowned at him, before turning away to look out the tiny, circular window, watching the light shower tapping against it, rather pointedly ignoring him.

Baki sighed and knocked against the table to draw his attention. “Since you’re reluctant to talk to me about it, I’ll assume it’s a personal matter that has you so worried and not a matter of state. I won’t force you to tell me, but I would suggest you talk to _someone_ , have you spoken to your siblings about it?”

“Me and Kankuro have discussed it, but we’re both equally unsure of what to do,” he said, words quiet and mumbled, “perhaps…”

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, being blunt had got him this far, now was the time to wait for Gaara to accept the offer, or not.

The silence stretched out for a good long while, most would’ve found it uncomfortable, would’ve given up, but Baki was used to playing the waiting game, so he simply drifted into a shallow meditation while his student mulled things over. No pressure, no demands, no pestering, he was just a willing ear should he decide that one was needed.

His heightened senses listened as the rain outside slowed, then stopped. Even during the wet season, rain in the desert never lasted very long, it was often violent, but always brief.

“I am… concerned, about Yodo.”

Immediately, he was back to focusing on Gaara, he nodded shortly – he’d suspected as much. “Is there something in particular that has you concerned?”

“Yes, she… Is it normal for a child to steal things?” he asked, and for a split second Baki swore he saw the tiny, frightened child who’d been long dead staring back at him.

He furrowed his brows, shaking his head slowly. “Not exactly, what has she been stealing?”

“Only small things; food, blankets, water canteens. I believe she’s taken a few antique trinkets from father’s old study and some of mother’s jewellery is missing, though I can’t guarantee that was her,” he said, on the desk, his hand started twitching imperceptibly, an unconscious signal of stress for him, “she hasn’t done anything with it, she’s just hiding it all in one of the abandoned bedrooms. The behaviour seems abnormal.”

“Indeed,” Baki said, pushing the veil of his turban back to rub wearily at his face, “though you did mention she used to live on the streets, she’s probably had to steal a lot in her life.”

Gaara gave him the tiny, confused frown that he always got when faced with any aspect of humanity he was unfamiliar with. “But, she doesn’t live on the streets anymore, she has no need to keep doing it,” he said, as though it was ever that simple.

“You should know better than that Gaara, how many years did it taken you to stop flinching whenever you hear a loud bang? Fear can leave the most devoted habits.” He felt perhaps a little guilty at using the redhead’s own fears against him like that, but he was a logical man, sometimes he needed to be reminded that no one ran purely on logic. “If she’s not causing any real trouble, then I would suggest just letting her have this comfort, I’m sure she’ll eventually acclimate and her stealing will stop.”

His student took a long moment to think on it, but eventually gave a short, sharp nod. His eyes already looked notable lighter.

“Well then, if that’s everything,” he pushed himself up smoothly and idly straightened out his turban, “I’ll go and make sure the flood preparations are being made properly.” He bowed to the Kazekage and turned on his heel to leave his office.

“Thank you, sensei.”

He quickly stomped down the grin that forced itself onto his face – though not before turning to show it to his student – he didn’t need every genin in the building thinking that he was a big softy now, did he?

\---

This was the absolute worst time of year. The normally dry and dusty streets were turned into a thick sludge that sucked at heels and slowed everyone to a crawl, the comforting familiarity of suffocating heat and unyielding sun was replaced by cooler, miserable days, where the rain would be beating against your back with the force of a jutsu one minute and a fine mist soaking your clothes to the bone the next.

Not to mention all the thunder and lightning that usually came with the clouds.

In all her years of living on the streets, watching the skies, she’d grown very good at spotting the differences between thunder-bearing clouds and the ones that only brought water.

And that cloud just starting to creep over the towering walls of Sunagakure was definitely the former.

“Yodo, are you alright?”

Her head snapped down from staring at the sky, instead looking to the man who’d called out to her. Gaara was now looking up at the sky too, “Don’t worry, we’ll be home before the rain starts,” he said, before turning back around and taking a step forwards, he gestured for her to follow. “Let’s get going.”

She glared at his turned back, but quickly jogged to catch up and stand beside her two new brothers, slipping their way through the crowded street; only the very worst of weather would deter Suna folk from going about their daily routines.

Araya gave her a worried look, but traipsed along after their foster carer, still struggling with the muddy slop that covered every inch of the roads and cloth bag in his arms. Shinki seemed to be having a hard time of it too, she was doing alright, but only because she had a whole lot of practise to draw on and they were still all trailing far behind the adult’s longer strides.

Why couldn’t they have just stayed in today? Sure, they’d been running low on food and needed to stock up if they wanted to eat dinner tonight, but that didn’t mean Gaara had to drag them along with him, he could’ve just gone by himself!

Actually, why did he need to go at all, he was the fucking _Kazekage_ , why didn’t he have ten servants just for going grocery shopping? And twenty cooks and five butlers and a whole army of maids.

Of all the things that she expected from being fostered by the most powerful man in the village, a huge, half-abandoned mansion inhabited by just two men who did all their housework themselves, was absolutely not it.

If she was rich and famous she’d never do any boring chores ever again.

There didn’t even seem to be any reason for the three kids to have come, he’d claimed that it was so they could choose things they wanted, but there was a dark whisper in the back of her mind that he’d taken them out just to dump them back at the orphanage, or, even worse, he’d somehow found out about her hoard of stolen goods and didn’t trust her being alone in the house anymore; would he have her locked up if he had?

No, she couldn’t think like that, if he’d found out he would’ve already said so and had her taken away or something, he didn’t know and she couldn’t let him find out, not when Araya was just starting to settle in to this strange new life.

“Keep up, you three” this time the voice calling out was much harder.

Once again she snapped her attention to the man standing… about fifteen feet in front of them, a calm rock in a sea of moving bodies, as people instinctually parted around him; she’d been so lost in thought she hadn’t even noticed they were lagging so far behind.

Araya squeaked and rushed forwards. “Sorry! I’m sorry, we’ll walk faster,” he said, short legs struggling to push through the thick, sludgy sand.

He didn’t get far before slipping, Shinki was quick to grab his arm and hold him up, unfortunately neither one was quick enough to save the bag of groceries he’d been carrying.

Her chest was starting to feel hot, she growled deep in her throat and stomped up next to them, dropping her own bag to help steady her friend. “What’re you apologising for, it’s not our fault we can’t keep up with an adult,” she glared up at Gaara looking blank-facedly at them, “why don’t you walk _slower_ , huh?”

By now they’d managed to gather a bit of attention, most people were keeping their heads down and going on their way, but she could still hear tuts and feel judgemental eyes drilling into her back, her jaw clenched, hard.

The emotionless stare went on for a few seconds more, before he glanced down at their sand and mud covered legs, he let out a soft mumble, “Of course, you’re not old enough to have had any chakra control training yet,” he started walking over – and only now was she noticing that his feet stayed perfectly atop the mud without sinking in at all – and crouching down in front of them, “my apologies, I was expecting too much, I can carry-”

“We don’t need your pity, we can walk just fine!” she snapped, staring him dead-on in his weird, glassy, pale eyes, she could feel her face burning hot, breath getting heavy and uneven, _dammit_ she had to try and calm down, she couldn’t get mad now! She started to count down from ten, that would help, ten… nine… eight…

Movement out of the corner of her eye distracted her; someone was grabbing the tins and vegetables that had spilled out onto the ground, stuffing them into a bag, someone was _taking her stuff!_

The first punch she threw was weak, but it caught the thief off-guard enough that they dropped the haul they were trying to _steal_ from her – _no one_ stole from her – she reeled her leg back to land a solid kick to the woman’s head, but it never landed, a tight grip was keeping her stuck in place, she struggled against it but it held firm, gripping even tighter in response, she tried to punch instead, but her arm was trapped too, she could feel panicked laughter bubbling up in her throat as she pulled and pulled and pull-

“Yodo!”

Her eyes snapped to the terrified face of one of her best friends, tears were already pouring from his good eye as he pulled at one of her arms, Shinki helping him hold her still.

She could still hear the blood pounding in her head, she glanced down to see a thin stream of sand slowly pulling away from her ankle. Dread pooled in her stomach as she finally looked up to see the old lady staring back at her in fear, hands cradling her face.

She didn’t even want to see what the Kazekage’s expression was right now.

So, feeling the slackened grip against her, she ran.

It didn’t matter where, she just had to get _away_ , through the gaps in the crowd, darting into narrow alleyways and vaulting over piles of junk, it was almost calming for her, all the old instincts coming back and letting her wind through the maze of backstreets and shacks with the nimble grace of an alley-cat.

By the time her body forced her to stop – lungs heaving and legs burning, leaning heavily against the filthy wall of an alley – she’d managed to get herself nice and lost; just how she liked it.

Hopefully anyone following her would also be lost and would just forget about the worthless stray who’d just shouted at the Kazekage and hit an old woman in the space of about a minute. _Fuck_ , she pounded a fist against the wall letting the burst of pain in her hand ground her, how did she let that happen? She’d been trying so hard these last few weeks, she’d bitten down her anger more times than she could count, she’d kept her old street-rat instincts hidden from her prospective parent for so long.

And now, she’d ruined everything because she was a stupid, useless, awful…

She punched the wall again.

What should she do now, she’d ruined things for herself, but maybe Araya and Shinki were still safe, after all they’d done nothing wrong. If so, then she couldn’t risk making things worse for them by showing up again and she didn’t want to go back to the orphanage where she’d no doubt be found by her former carer and arrested or something.

Oh well, the streets had always been more of a home to her than anywhere else, she’d just have to return to her old life – and be much more careful this time – maybe her old haunt in the derelict district hadn’t been snatched up by one of the other homeless around there.

“Yodo,” the soft voice was enough to send her scrambling towards the opposite end of the alley from it, but a steep, smooth wall of sand blocked her path.

She spun to face the intruder down; she’d have to run past him to get away, which meant she’d have to be fast and take the very first opening she could find and just ignore the fact that she was going to try and outsmart the _Kazekage_.

At least he wasn’t particularly aggressive right now; he was just crouching down exaggeratedly slowly, keeping his hands up and a few feet between them. “Are you… okay?” he asked and for the first time she heard something other than boredom or irritation in his voice, that combined with his eyes darting around unsurely almost made him seem… scared? No that was too strong a word, nervous then?

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to keep her voice confident and her bleeding fist hidden behind her back.

“Do you… know, what you did back there?” He was looking around awkwardly, like he didn’t know what to say or do, that made her feel just a little better about the situation, though she was still far from relaxed.

The girl couldn’t help looking down in shame, even as she mumbled out a, “Yeah.”

“Do you know _why_ you did it?”

She shook her head, hesitated, nodded, hesitated, then shook her head again.

“I understand.” His blank expression didn’t change much, he just nodded before sitting down fully, regardless of the sand and dirt of the floor. “Your survival instincts are rather extreme, but it’s hardly a unique experience, we have counsellors who aid ninja in controlling their actions when off-duty, I can teach you the self-control exercises I know, but I would prefer to consult a professional in this matter, if that is what you want, that is?”

What?

“Huh?”

“Ah, you don’t have to make a decision right now, it’s been an… eventful day, let’s just go home, Araya and Shinki are already there, they were worried about you,” Gaara said, gracefully pushing himself to his feet and waving her closer.

But she couldn’t move, it felt like the whole world was spinning around without her and she was just struggling to cling onto her reality.

Her eyes started to burn and prick, but she couldn’t cry, so she slapped her hands over her eyes and rubbed until bursts of colour started flickering behind her eyelids. A sharp inhale cut through her senses, “Your hand-”

“ _Why?_ ” she screamed, at Gaara, at herself, at the world in general. “Why are you doing this, why aren’t you shouting at me and telling me what a bad person I am! I hit an old lady! Take me back to the orphanage, throw me back onto the street, lock me up- why aren’t you _doing_ anything?” She wasn’t going to cry; she absolutely was not going to cry!

He looked genuinely shocked for once, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, frozen in place. The Kazekage stared down at her for a long moment – a young girl panting and stubbornly refusing to wipe the water dripping from her chin – before his gaze softened and he took a careful step forward.

“Yodo, I’m not going to throw you out just because you lashed out on instinct,” he said, voice low and calm and gentle, she didn’t even know he was capable of that emotion. He took another slow step, so that he was only three feet away from her, “Believe me when I say, that there are many who have done bad things – truly bad things, far worse than you – that have gone on to become great people, who were still deemed worthy of a second chance; you are not a bad person, so you do not need a second chance. But, you do have a choice, if you’d prefer not to live with me, that is understandable, however… I think I would like it if you did stay.”

He didn’t come any closer to her, or say anything more, just held out one hand and gave her a tiny, encouraging smile. This was all wrong, clearly she’d dropped into some alternate universe where everything was backwards and everything she knew about the world didn’t apply, but…

She grasped his hand just long enough to make her decision clear, before snapping it back and shoving it in her pocket, frowning as she wiped her face clean with the other.

“C’mon then, storms gonna start soon.”

She was only doing this for her brothers’ sakes. Her heart was definitely not fluttering hopefully in her chest. At. All.

\---


	6. Optimism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow I am just the worst aren’t I? okok I know it’s been a _really_ long time and this is a pretty short chap, but to all you lovely, beautiful folks who’ve been sending just the _sweetest_ comments about missing this fic: dw! I’ve been focused on my other works for the last few months, but I’ve no intentions of dropping this one, I love this family and all my precious children far too much to abandon it and just knowing that there’s people out there who love them too makes me so so sO happy!!  
>  I won’t promise more frequent updates bc with my track record that’ll just end up guaranteeing that everything goes horribly wrong somehow, but once atfc is finished (which should only be a week or two now) I’m taking a short break from that series so I’ll be able to dedicate a bit more time to this and my other fics, and I’ve already started working on the next chap (finally, a Shinki centric one!), so _hopefully_ you won’t have to wait such a horrendously long time for the next update  
>  Thank you again for being just the Best readers I could wish for and I hope you enjoy, as always!

\---

Optimism

\---

He wasn’t sure how, but Baki sensed it would be a trying day.

“I didn’t do anything, stop lying!”

“You’ve got dirt all over your hands!”

“Yeah, ‘cause I was trying to clean it up!” Yodo’s glare was impressive for one so young, but not particularly convincing, especially when joined by her twitching, grimy hands and excessively puffed out cheeks.

There was definitely some over-compensating going on with her stare, a common mistake for novice liars, but she at least had conviction.

And her brother was being surprisingly firm today; of the three children, Araya was by far the most… well, normal would probably be insensitive – and he’d been around long enough to know that pretty much _no one_ who lived in a ninja village was anything approaching ‘normal’ – easy-going, then? This was actually the first time Baki had seen him angry, though, to be fair, he’d only known the boy for a little over a month now.

Still, he took the rare optimistic view, that this was a sign of him becoming more comfortable in his new life.

The other two would undoubtedly be harder to crack.

“I know it was you, just tell me the truth!” Araya shouted, or at least that was probably what he was aiming for, he was apparently incapable of raising his voice beyond a soft declaration.

It clearly wasn’t enough to convince Yodo to back down though, as she was now sucking in enough air to power a decent wind jutsu. He didn’t want to hear the kind of screech the little banshee was capable of, so Baki decided that now was the time to step out of the shadows and clear his throat.

He took only a _little_ joy in how high the pair jumped.

“Where’d you come from, you were just in the kitchen!” Yodo demanded, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Yes, I was.” He felt no need to elaborate on that. “So, what happened here?” he asked, as though he hadn’t heard the whole argument and, not ten minutes earlier, seen a highly-suspicious figure sneaking in from the garden and heading upstairs.

Yodo was immediately wary, eyeing him like she wasn’t sure whether to run and hide, or stand her ground. Her brother on the other hand, was more than happy to grab the barely-recognisable stuffed animal – Baki suspected it was once a fennec, but with its head missing and what was left of its body either sagging like a deflated balloon or covered in sand and mud, it was impossible to be sure – and hold it out to him, a look of pure devastation on his face.

He leaned down and gently took the thing into his hands; it looked like most of the padding had been taken out of the soft, cotton bag and someone had been in the process of refilling it with sand.

All eyes went straight to the blond girl, looking like she’d just come home from burying a body.

Baki only needed to raise an eyebrow for her to groan and slump to the hard, stone floor. “Ok fine! I accidentally ripped it and everything fell out,” she said, her eyes starting to water and voice cracking slightly, “the sand was to stuff it again, I was just tryin’ to fix it before you found out!”

Araya’s single working eye was already tearing up – he was a deeply empathetic boy – but Baki was less than convinced.

“Really? Why use sand, why not just refill the toy with the stuffing that had fallen out of it?”

In less than a second, Yodo went from being on the verge of crying, to looking like she’d seen the face of death and was now questioning every choice she’d made up to this point. “Uh…”

He continued in his most monotone voice, the one that always worked so well when reprimanding young ninja who’d made rookie mistakes, “And where is all that stuffing that fell out now? There’s none anywhere on the floor.”

“Because I threw it away!” she shouted and once again Baki found himself impressed at how quickly she could change her entire demeanour, this time from the stark horror of a trouble-maker who’d just been found out, to self-righteously pissed that anyone might dare doubt her. She’d make a good infiltrator if that skill could be coached, molded into something more realistic. “What’s it matter anyway? I’m makin’ it better now.”

Well, she didn’t yield as easily as some trained ninja he knew, he’d give her that.

And it wasn’t like she had caused any real harm, just a bit of mess and a petty theft, though he did wonder what she needed the stuffing for in the first place, probably as protective wrapping for something more valuable she’d squirreled away – Gaara had told him to not call too much attention to that though, at least until she’d relaxed into her new home.

With a sigh, he handed the sorry excuse for a toy back to Araya. “Well, it’s your property she damaged, what do _you_ think should happen to her?”

The boy looked torn, on the one hand he was a sweet, gentle soul, one who hated to see others upset, but on the other hand, this was clearly an important belonging to him. After a minute of glancing between his sister and his babysitter, he finally reached a decision.

“Um, I think she should… clean up all the sand in the house!” he said boldly, only twitching _slightly_ when Yodo groaned in misery.

Baki nodded solemnly and turned to her. “You heard the man, get to it.”

She scowled and blew a raspberry at him, but dragged herself out of their bedroom to find the broom, brushing past her other brother on her way out the door.

Shinki stood quietly for a moment, before holding out a hand to Araya. “I’ll fix it,” he muttered, a toy of his own half-hidden behind his back.

“No-” Araya looked appalled at the very notion “-you can’t take the stuff out of Tomo-chan for me! It’s ok, I’ll just…”

A large hand dropping gently onto his head stopped the tears before they could truly start; Baki grinned down at him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can find a spare cushion to loot for padding, Gaara won’t mind.”

The old man’s smile softened as the boys both bounded out of the room towards the laundry closet, he followed the two out. Maybe, his earlier worries about the day had been unfounded.

Optimism was a _very_ welcome change for him.

\---


	7. Of Ghosts and Unreality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uh, this is kind of a very important chap to me personally, mostly bc a lot of it is exploring autism-spec stuff, drawing a LOT on personal experience and my own habits, so.. yeah pretty self-indulgent tbh but also something that still isn’t understood half as well as it should be, so I don’t feel too guilty about that ~~I even forced myself to eat some coconut to really nail the food aversion scene, I hope yall appreciate the lengths I go to for you guys~~
> 
> also there’s a ref to an old oneshot of mine Drowning Out the Silence in this chap, I’d almost completely forgotten about it, but after rereading bc of a just.. _really_ touching review I got on it, I’ve decided to start pulling some of the ideas from that fic into this one! Long story short; Gaara has psychosis which manifests through several voices he hears (we can just pretend that he’s been trying to keep it hidden while the kids adjusted and bc he’s still a little insecure about it up until this chap) but I’d like to make it clear that this is not to make him ‘creepy’ or anything of the like. while it wasn’t always this way, by this point in his life, he’s got a rather good relationship with his voices and they help him more than hurt him, it’s just another part of his character, not something to fear or pity (that being said if anyone who actually experiences such things takes any issues with how that or disassociation are portrayed in this fic then please do let me know, I’m open to making changes to be more sensitive/realistic!)
> 
> hope you enjoy!

 

\---

The grains left sticky trails behind them on the earthenware bowl, as he pushed them around with precise movements.

It was frustrating trying to collect them all – chopsticks weren’t built for such a task – but he persevered, with only a slight crease to his brow. Every time he uncovered a chunk of meat, or a vegetable, he carefully brushed it clean of rice, before bringing it to his mouth, taking his time to chew, as he started searching for the next.

Eating this way was slow, but almost everything he did was slow, so it shouldn’t stand out.

The conversation at the table was little more than a dull hum at the edge of his mind, as he drifted in and out of awareness; he was pretty sure that right now Yodo was asking about the Hero of Konoha – she still didn’t quite believe that the Kazekage actually knew him. Her words were ignored by Shinki though, in favour of scouring his dish for the nice bits.

He knew he would have to eat the rice eventually, because leaving an empty plate was rude and ungrateful and would only bring trouble, but that required a certain level of mental preparation, one that he hadn’t quite reached yet.

So, he continued with his hunt, occasionally glancing up to see what the dinner table’s other occupants were focused on.

It was mostly Yodo – she was loud and demanded attention in everything she did after all, and they’d had a long-standing agreement that she would always work to keep attention _away_ from him, no matter the situation. Araya also helped in his own small ways, fussing at his food in similar ways, even though he could happily eat most things.

As long as they both did that, he could spend as long as he needed picking at his own dinner, letting the comforting chewiness of beef and the satisfying crunch of onion calm his mind in preparation.

By the time he’d run out of all other options, the conversation had drifted away from old war stories; now the Kazekage was asking Araya about how his studies were going.

Shinki frowned, that was a dangerous question, one that would undoubtedly be followed up by similar questions directed at Yodo and himself. His chopsticks tapped lightly at the bowl, as he stared hard at the mound of sticky, sauce-coated rice.

Gritting his teeth, he scooped up a small mouthful, forcing his mind to blank as he slowly brought it to his lips, fighting down the reflexive gags as he held it an inch away, then trying to focus on the rich, hearty taste of the curry sauce – with only the slight edge of heat – instead of the mass of grains sitting heavy on his tongue, on the working of his throat muscles, not on how his entire body was trying to turn itself inside out at the _feel_ of it sliding down.

He wanted to shudder, long after his mouth had been cleared, he wanted to drain the last of his water, wash away the ghost sensations, cleanse his whole body of it… but that would be wasteful, and if he drank half a glass of water after every bite then someone was going to ask questions.

With the silent promise that he would allow himself a small sip after the next bite, he dug the chopsticks back into the bowl.

“Shinki-” the word was quiet, but it still jolted him out of his concentration, he watched the rice fall as his grip loosened, before looking up into the blank face of the Kazekage “-is something wrong?”

His grip tightened, threatening to snap the sticks in half, but he just shook his head and quickly gathered another scoop of rice. Now that he could feel the eyes on him, he took even more care to keep his movements smooth and unhesitant, not let even a hint of discomfort cross his face.

The Kazekage’s brows creased, just slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

Carefully taking a sip of blessed water to help clear his mouth of sensation, he listened to Yodo slapping a hand down on the table and demanding to know why he wasn’t asking about _her_ studies. Shinki let out a slow breath of relief and went through the arduous process of forcing more rice down his throat.

He was now at five bites, with – judging by eye – between ten and twenty more; a daunting task, but not unsurmountable, so long as he kept breaking it down into smaller goals.

A short drink after every two bites, don’t chew, don’t think, just-

Chopsticks stabbed against the smooth, stone table top. He blinked down at the place his bowl had been not two seconds earlier.

“Kid…” The deep sigh drew his attention to Kankuro and the dish held in his hand.

Her frowned and stretched to take it back, but the man just lifted it high above his head, beyond any hopes of reaching it. “Give it back,” he muttered, letting his gaze stay fixed on the bowl, rather than the face glaring at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Y’know if there’s stuff you don’t like, you should’ve just _said_ so, no need to put yourself through hell forcing it down.”

Now Kankuro was rising from his seat, taking long strides towards the bin, before Shinki could even think about getting up, the remains of his rice were dumped in the bin with all the other waste. His grip once again tightened against his chopsticks, he could hear the faintest of creaks, but even that wasn’t enough to make him release them.

To his left, he could feel Yodo’s building rage, Araya’s worried hand hovering just above his shoulder, to his right, the Kazekage was looking as blank as he always did. Kankuro wandered to the stove, emptied bowl still in hand and, without saying a word, spooned more of the curry contentedly simmering on a low heat into it, before walking back to the dinner table and dropping back down into his seat, pushing the now full dish back to Shinki.

He blinked at it.

“It’s just the rice you don’t like, right?” he asked, speaking around a bite of his own dinner shoved into his mouth the second he’d sat down.

Casting an uncertain glance to the other children – Yodo looking torn between throwing something at the man, or giving an approving nod, Araya giving a loose shrug – and the two adults – Kankuro keeping his eyes closed as he shovelled the rest of his food into his mouth, the Kazekage’s lips curved into the slightest of smiles – Shinki carefully skewered a chunk of tender meat.

It was uncomfortable eating with everyone watching him, but not nearly as uncomfortable as eating the rice.

There was an almost imperceptible sigh, before Gaara spoke up, “How about you three make a list of all the things you can’t, or don’t enjoy, eating? I’m sure we can find better alternatives.”

He nodded once, along with his siblings.

As he settled back into rhythm and Araya started up casual conversation once more, Kankuro leaned over slightly, grinning at him. “Don’t worry so much kid,” he whispered, “I bet none of your eating habits are as weird as mine and Gaara’s; you know he has to peel every individual pea before he can eat them?”

\---

“So,” Yodo said, flopping dramatically onto the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, “how much longer do you think we’re gonna be here?”

It was a good question, one he really didn’t have an answer for, so he said nothing.

Araya sounded upset though. “What, why would you think that we’d be sent back to the orphanage? We- I didn’t do something wrong, did I? I-I, maybe there’s still time to fix it, why didn’t you say something earl-”

“Hey! Shut up and calm down,” Yodo snapped, already off the bed and sitting next to Araya on the floor, grabbing a hand to stop it flapping about – wordlessly, Shinki mimicked the act with his other one – “You ain’t done anything and it’s not like I overheard anything bad, I was just… wondering.”

Biting his lip, Araya looked down at his hands, trapped in those of his friends. “Well, I guess you’re the only one who’s been adopted before, so you’d know better than anyone…”

That was true, of the three of them, only the girl had ever caught the interest of prospective parents visiting the orphanage, she’d always claimed it was just because she looked like a ‘poor, sweet little girl’ who just needed to be cared for and cleaned up; within three weeks though, she would always end up back in their shared room, complaining about the other kids and the bland meals, like she’d never left.

She’d never cried about the loss of her short-lived fosters, not once.

Groaning and falling onto her back again, she said, “Look, I’m not saying we’re gonna be back there tomorrow, just… it’s never worked before, I don’t see why it will now. I don’t wanna upset you, but I think we should be ready for anything, just in case.” Her small hands were playing with Araya’s, twisting their fingers together and poking at the soft skin of his palm – she’d always been fascinated by their skin, her own was coarse and tough.

Araya was still worrying at his lip. “Yeah…”

Letting go of the hand still held in his own, Shinki turned around until he was facing them both, though his head stayed turned down, eyes fixed on his lap. “You were the one who drove away those foster parents though,” he said quietly.

“Shinki! You shouldn’t say stuff like that, maybe she’s a little… difficult, _sometimes_ , but it’s not like she’d try and-” Yodo’s cough easily interrupted his ranting, he didn’t need to glance up to picture the way she’d be frowning right now, probably while picking at the skin of Araya’s hand. “…Wait, you didn’t actually?”

Huffing and tugging on his arm until he fell down next to her, Yodo spoke in a loud, firm tone, “Well, I wasn’t just gonna leave you two alone! ‘sides, I didn’t like any of ‘em.”

He was honestly a little surprised that the other boy hadn’t realised already; Yodo was anything but subtle – it was one of the reasons he liked her so much, she wore her emotions proudly upon her sleeve, easy even for someone like him to read, even if those emotions were mostly anger, irritation, boredom and contempt – and she almost bragged about how quickly she’d managed to get herself abandoned _this_ time.

But then, Araya was rather naive. Or maybe he’d just not wanted to accept that he was part of the reason Yodo was denying herself every opportunity at a loving family that came along.

“So, what about now?” he asked. “We’re all together here, so you don’t need to worry about us being alone, and Ka-Gaara’s pretty nice, don’t you think?” Araya sounded tentative, perhaps even a little hopeful.

There was a very long pause, especially for someone like Yodo – who often didn’t waste time sending words to be scrutinised by her brain before letting them escape her mouth.

Eventually, she let out a drawn-out sigh. “I… I dunno, maybe? He’s not _awful_ , I guess.”

That was probably as good as they were going to get from her.

Araya nodded eagerly, a grin struggling to break through on his scarred face. “Yeah! He doesn’t seem to mind us being here and he’s always trying to find out what we like and don’t like and everything, it’s way better here than the orphanage…” His words gradually trailed off, he sent a quick, nervous glance in Shinki’s direction. “What do you think, Shinki?”

“…It’s nice.”

\---

Being alone in a not-quite-unfamiliar house was a strange experience.

Having lived here for almost a month and a half now, he couldn’t claim that he wasn’t beginning to feel a certain comfort within its walls – thick stone and stucco, just like every other building in Suna, it guaranteed a certain level of familiarity, no matter where you went – and, though there was still much of the large estate that he had yet to explore, he could probably traverse the kitchen with his eyes closed and his new bedroom was already becoming a place of refuge for him, though he wasn’t sure how much of that was the house itself, and how much was the two others who could usually be found there.

Still, he liked how quiet it was here; the Kazekage estate was hidden by high, sheltering walls, near the outskirts of the village, far away from the bustling markets and chaotic training fields. Only the ever-present sound of distant wind and occasional strange creaks of a living, breathing building, echoed down these halls.

Nothing like the orphanage, filled with constant shouting and chatter and laughter during the day and poorly-supressed sobbing all through the night.

He quickly shoved those memories as far to the back of his mind as possible, instead focusing on his steps as he meandered down a corridor, always careful to plant his feet on the intersections where the scattered, hexagonal tiles met – the distance was a little longer than his natural strides, but it was satisfying to see all the lines branching out from under his feet.

There wasn’t much need to worry about someone seeing him, the Kazekage and his brother were at a council meeting, so they wouldn’t be home for at least a few hours and Araya and Yodo were both used to all his habits right now, they’d sometimes even join in.

But, right now, they were too busy hiding, so he’d have to track them down first.

Living in such a large, maze-like house definitely made hide-and-seek more of a challenge, perhaps a little _too_ much.

He’d already investigated all the familiar places – the kitchen, the living room, their bedroom – as well as the obvious places – storage cupboards with room enough to hide a small body and under the many tables to be found in the halls – so now he was methodically going from room to room, checking behind furniture, inside boxes and cupboards, and even in the shadowy areas where a wardrobe met the ceiling.

Yodo was very good at climbing after all.

Placing his foot in the centre of the flower-like pattern just outside the next door on his quest, he reached out enough to push it open, before jumping the short distance into the room.

It was a study of some kind – the eighth one he’d come across already, he wondered how many people must have lived here at one point to require so many – but judging from the fine layer of dust and sand covering every flat surface, it wasn’t one that was used very often.

There weren’t any footprints that he could see, but Shinki decided to search the room anyway, his friends could be very tricky when they wanted to.

The bookshelf was perfect, tomes all the same size and ordered by name, then title, but none of the books really appealed to him, they all looked like dull political manuals of some kind. The desk was also incredibly tidy – except for the dust, but even that lay in a smooth, even coating – a few papers yellowed with age on one side, an array of writing implements to the other.

He ducked to peek under the desk, but there was nobody there, a quick glance around the rest of the room revealed no doors, no closets, no shadowy corners to hide in, just the immaculate shelves, desk and a low, uncomfortable-looking sofa.

Sighing, he spun on his heels to exit the room, but stopped short of the door.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a strange shape just visible from under the couch, inconsistent with the normal shadows.

It couldn’t possibly be a person, not even a small person, there were only a few inches of space there, but still, it might be some kind of clue. Not quite sure what to expect, he slowly crept over, dropped to his knees, and peered into the dark gap.

He couldn’t see much – the light from the window couldn’t hope to reach here – but there was definitely something there.

Taking once last glance around the room, listening intently for any sign that someone might be watching, waiting, ready to leap out at him any moment; he reached under the couch until his hand hit something hard and bumpy, grabbed it and snapped it back, dropping the object almost as soon as he’d uncovered it with the shudders that racked his entire body.

After forcing his twitching arm to relax long enough to wipe away the awful dust clinging to him like a second skin, he could finally take a real look at the treasure he’d found.

If Araya had found this, he’d probably scream and go running to find someone else. If Yodo had found it, she’d probably shriek, smash the thing to bits for the affront to her pride and brush the remains back under the sofa before someone came to scold her.

Shinki just looked at it, long and hard, before pulling a long sleeve over his hand to brush the thing clean.

He’d seen the kind of puppets that Kankuro used before, obviously, but this was the first time he’d gotten a chance to look at one up close, or at least a part of one. It was much more… realistic than the ones he had seen before, the surface painted a flesh-like colour – though it had turned slightly grey from age and dust – rather than the plain, polished wood of Karasu and Kuroari, the joints were smooth and almost seamless, though running a finger along the knuckles easily revealed the hidden lines, there were even ‘fingernails’ embedded into the wood, from the texture, he suspected they were made of some kind of ceramic.

It was a beautiful piece of craftmanship, even to his untrained eye, a little worn and antiquated, trying to twist the thing into motion led only to the stubborn creaking of long-rusted hinges and cracking paint, but he found himself fascinated by it, examining the delicate carving and strange, unexplained seams, perhaps they were meant to contain weapons and this had belonged to a full war-puppet once?

Already he was working through the mechanics of it in his mind; how each joint would bend when the thing was new, how a short senbon might be able to fit in each finger, though that would certainly affect the range of motion, if this section of the arm flipped out then you could probably fit a coil of rope or a few kunai in there, or how about-

“Shinki! Where the shit are you? _You’re_ supposed to be the one seeking you know!”

Placing the disembodied arm carefully back under the couch, Shinki pushed himself to his feet – patting his legs free of dust – and ran out of the room to follow the voice. He’d remember where this room was though, maybe he could ask Kankuro if it could be repaired?

\---

The cup made only the slightest ‘clink’ as it was lowered to the table, practically inaudible; a mostly useless talent, Gaara mused, though the many dignitaries he met in his role seemed to find such grace and manners appealing, often more so than genuine pleasantness.

But, it was certainly handy for when he had a migraine tapping at his temples with its razor-clawed fingers that he wanted to avoid provoking.

Slowly releasing a controlled breath, mentally packing up the aching pain into a sealed box and shoving it as deep into the unknowable shadows of his consciousness as possible, Gaara turned once more to the papers scattered across his kitchen table.

It was nothing particularly important – he knew better than to bring sensitive documents home with him, or at least not to leave them anywhere but his home office if he did, the room he spent most of his time in had more protective seals lining its walls than most daimyo had in their entire estates – just the write-ups of several D-rank missions and a few reports summarising the damage caused in the last rainy season.

And a letter from the Tsuchikage, whose last move in their on-going game of postal shogi was giving him some grief. Reading the man’s moves was easy, perhaps a little _too_ easy; he was now starting to second guess his strategy.

That could wait though, for now he just wanted to sit in the comfort of his own home, drink his tea and wait for the throbbing in his skull to dissipate a little, listening to the distant calls of Yodo and Araya playing in the garden. He still wasn’t quite used to their presence yet, the new sounds and feelings they brought with them were rather disconcerting and he often found himself stepping on an unexpected toy as he wandered halls he used to be able to navigate completely blind with ease.

But… he couldn’t quite bring himself to regret any of it, even though the arrival of his charges into his life had given him even more worries to keep him awake at night than he’d already had.

There was something gratifying to seeing how bright Araya’s face became when he received a compliment on a drawing he’d made, seeing how genuinely happy such a small thing could make him; to knowing that Yodo never again have to scavenge and thieve just to survive as long as he had any say in the matter – even if she still couldn’t break out of those habits – even Shinki, who was almost as reticent as Gaara himself, seemed to be slowly settling into this new life, he still never fully relaxed when he or Kankuro were in the room, but he was able to release a little of that tension with his siblings’ help and more than once Gaara had heard him wandering the house, humming softly under his breath.

Actually, he could hear it now too, drifting closer as the boy walked the short distance from the garden to the kitchen. It was a nice sound, Gaara decided, even muffled by the building’s thick walls, it almost reminded him of the way Temari used to quietly mutter to herself sometimes.

Shinki stopped at the kitchen entrance, humming immediately cutting off.

Forcing his face to soften as much as was possible for him, Gaara briefly made eye contact before dropping his gaze back to his papers. “Good afternoon.”

He’d managed to read and sign off on two reports before Shinki unfroze. There was a faint shuffling as the boy once again started moving, slowly working his way to the fridge, but the expected sound of the door opening never came.

Not quite frowning, Gaara glanced over to his foster, who was standing utterly still facing the fridge, head turned down and angled just slightly towards him.

Was this unusual behaviour? He honestly couldn’t tell.

“Did you want something to eat? I can always make it for you if…” He cut himself off as Shinki’s shoulders visibly tensed and he started swaying gently. “Shinki?”

The boy didn’t answer, or look at him, or do anything at all to suggest he’d even heard him. Now he was _actually_ frowning. Careful to keep his movements slow and unthreatening, he rose from his seat and walked around to get a better look at Shinki’s face.

His expression was utterly blank – even more so than Gaara’s usually was – and his dark eyes didn’t so much as flicker to him as he crouched down a few feet away.

If he wasn’t reacting to movement, then he definitely wasn’t entirely present right now. This was a difficult situation; while he didn’t appear to be in any distress, disassociating like this was rarely a good sign and, even worse, Gaara had no idea how best to help him through it, he knew what worked best for _him_ , but making assumptions that those methods would definitely work for someone else could end up causing more harm.

What should he do? Shinki was too far gone to hear anything he might say, so talking him back to reality wasn’t an option, he didn’t want to leave the boy alone in case he accidentally hurt himself, but perhaps time and space was what he needed?

Shinki had been slowly dropping to the floor as Gaara deliberated, still rocking, still completely detached.

_I can’t just sit here thinking, I need to act. What would my siblings do? What would Naruto do?_

Taking a chance, he reached forwards with his sand, but quickly reigned it in – instinctual as it was for him, most were still unnerved by his preferred method of contact – instead forcing his arm out towards the boy, slow and controlled.

Hesitating as it hovered an inch away from his shoulder, Gaara glanced once again at Shinki’s face, muttering his name softly, before gently stretching to close that short distance.

His hand only lightly brushed the fabric of his foster’s shirt, but the flinch and sudden high-pitched whine had him snapping it back before he could even register the texture. Shinki’s arms wrapped around his head, pulling himself into as small a space as physically possible, his rocking becoming just slightly faster and shakier.

That was the wrong decision.

Carefully rising and taking a few quick steps back, he stared at the tiny, quivering lump rocking on his kitchen floor and realised that for the first time in years, there was _nothing_ he could do to help.

Had he really believed that just adopting these children, giving them a stable life and home would be enough? There was more to parenting than just providing for basic needs, he knew that, but those other things were still unknowable to him and there were no books or tutors to help him with this. He should send them back, give them the chance to find someone to care for them who _actually knew what they were do-_

A series of gentle thuds echoed down the hall, just seconds before charging through the doorway. “Shinki, I changed my mind, can I have some juice too?”

It took a few moments for Araya to truly take in the situation, but once he did, he immediately rushed to his brother’s side, glancing rapidly between him and his foster parent.

The air that had become trapped in his lungs rushed out all at once and – running a shaking hand through his hair, tugging lightly to ground himself – Gaara explained as best he could, “About four minutes, I’m not sure what triggered it, but I aggravated it by trying to touch him.”

Nodding, the boy settled himself in front of Shinki, gently pulling one hand into his and squeezing it tightly.

“Umm…” he stared, voice barely a whisper, but already so on-edge it came to Gaara as loud as a siren, “I’m really sorry, but… couldyoupleasegoaway?” The boy’s last words were a rush of mangled syllables, but he deciphered them quickly enough.

He stared for a long moment, more out of shock than anger, though apparently that wasn’t how Araya saw it.

“It’s not your fault, it’s just… being alone with unfamiliar adults…”

Trying vainly to relax his expression, Gaara nodded and walked over to the table, gathering up all his papers in swift, efficient movements, before striding to the door.

One hand resting lightly against the frame, he stopped, though he didn’t dare look back. “If you need anything…”

Araya could somehow put a smile into his voice, it was an admirable talent. “I’ll find you, promise.”

Without another word, he stepped out of the room and immediately headed towards his office; no doubt by the time he got there, his migraine would be in full effect. For once, he indulged the part of him telling himself he deserved it.

\---

It seemed quieter than normal tonight, even the wind outside was still and there were few animals and insects to create a soothing, constant background noise.

Nights like this were unsettling, leaving him on edge and unable to sleep, not even Yodo and Araya’s gentle snoring able to relax him, so Shinki found himself wandering instead, no real purpose or destination in mind.

He was still feeling a little shaken from his episode this afternoon, in that not-quite-there-but-not-quite-gone mental state that he absolutely loathed; reality and unreality he could cope with just fine, but he preferred it when they were completely separated, not bleeding into each other like this, leaving him wondering if that strange shadowy shape lingering just out of the corner of his eye was real, or a conjuring of his imagination.

The cold of the stone tiles was seeping through his socks and he couldn’t help shivering as the air around him dropped another degree, he wished he’d brought a blanket with him – desert nights always came on hard and fast, but the dramatic shift from boiling to freezing took a lot longer to settle through the well-insulated houses, especially ones as large as the Kazekage’s.

In the eerie silence, the sound of a human voice rang clear as a bell to his ears.

He stopped dead in the hallway, not daring to so much as breathe as he focused in on that noise, mentally calculating the direction and distance of its source and – most importantly – if it was moving.

No, not moving, it was staying at the same low, level volume, and there was no other sound accompanying the voice, so whoever it was likely wasn’t doing anything else.

His limbs were suddenly very heavy, weighed down by more than cold. He could already feel himself drifting away at the edges, but that would be dangerous, would leave him vulnerable, so he harshly bit his lip instead, clinging onto the wisps of his consciousness threatening to depart him.

As quiet as it was, that deep, rough tone was easily recognisable to anyone in Suna.

Despite all his instincts and rationalisations, the boy’s curiosity managed to wrestle control of his legs, slowly guiding him closer what he knew as the Kazekage’s bedroom.

Who could he be talking to so late at night? Was there someone else in there with him? Kankuro maybe, but then again, he was loud and talkative, surely his voice would've been the first one he'd noticed, there wasn’t anyone else who lived in this house though, except for his two friends who he _knew_ were still asleep in their room.

“What should I have done?”

He frowned, waiting for a response, but nothing came; was he talking to himself?

“It's not that sim-” Gaara’s words abruptly cut off, as though he were interrupted, but Shinki couldn't hear anything, not even a whisper. “You know that’s not possible for me.”

Maybe he was using some kind of communication device, but still, there should at least be some noise from that, even just a faint, electronic buzzing. Part of him wanted to check, but the door was firmly shut and he wasn’t about to put himself at any more risk than he already had just by creeping this close to the ninja’s room.

Settling down as quietly as he could – which was _very_ quietly, he’d had a lot of practise – Shinki leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes to better listen in.

There was a soft exhale. “Even if I did, I doubt he’d tell me anything; I never did at his age.”

He couldn’t shake the creeping feeling that the Kazekage was talking about him, but he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He knew that nothing good could come of staying, but the suspicion just made his curiosity all the more determined to get to the bottom of this.

“…Perhaps, but what if you’re wrong? This isn’t a situation where experimentation is appropriate, I don’t want to make a move that would agitate things further.” The voice that was always so controlled, for once sounded ragged and uncertain and most of all _tired_ ; it was perhaps the most human he’d ever seemed to Shinki.

The next pause lasted for a long time, seconds dragging by as he waited for the next puzzle-piece in this half-conversation he’d stumbled across.

Eventually though, a tiny chuckle slipped between the cracks around the door.

“You have entirely too much faith in me, Mother.”

Mother? That… wasn’t possible. Even as isolated and unsocial as he’d always been, everyone in Suna knew a little of the history of their ruling clan, through cultural osmosis if nothing else. Even if the truth had long been twisted and cut away to better fit the narrative of rumour, there were some facts that were absolutely undeniable; the current Kazekage had once been a jinchuriki, his father had sought to shape him into a weapon, to become the salvation of his country.

And his wife, Gaara’s mother, had died on the day of his birth.

Another sigh, long and resigned. “No, you’re right, I shouldn’t be hasty, what matters most is the children’s wellbeing, I won’t do anything rash, I promise. I’ll talk to Baki in the morning, he knows better than me how to support a child who is only loosely tied to reality.”

So, Shinki regularly left the physical realm and the Kazekage went to ghosts for parenting advice.

Apparently, no one in this house really knew what they were doing; it was a surprisingly reassuring revelation.

\---


	8. Beauty of the Fleeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! so I struggled with this chap for a goodly long while, but once I figured out where it was going it actually ended up being really fun to write and just very sweet overall, sorry for the (short for me) wait and hope you enjoy!

\---

The tiles under his feet were colder than usual – probably because he was _awake_ earlier than usual, jolted out of a bad dream that left his whole body sweating and trembling, but unable to move as his brain fumbled for the reigns to his limbs.

Shinki had woken up quickly and his humming an old lullaby helped soothe him, but even once he’d managed to calm down enough to drink some water and tell his brother that he could go back to sleep, Araya had been unable to drift off himself. Instead he’d curled up on his side of the bed he shared with his siblings, listening to their combined, slow breaths, snickering quietly when Yodo began to snore, until the light filtering through the curtains shifted to a faint purple, then pink.

Soon the sky would be painted in orange and red and yellow and the people of Suna would be rising, to make use of the relatively cool morning.

He wasn’t going to be falling asleep anytime soon and he was getting hungry, so, rather than sitting around waiting for others to get up, he’d carefully crawled off the bed and – quietly, so he didn’t wake his light-sleeping brother and sister – gotten dressed.

The air in these grand hallways was chilling, it always seemed to be moving, no matter where you went in the house; he’d asked Kankuro about it not long after he’d started living here and had listened enraptured as he explained that the towers lined across the building’s roof would catch the wind and let it blow through the halls, before taking all the hot air back outside through another tower.

They were definitely useful, but when the sun hadn’t yet risen to slowly bake the walls of the house, it just made the already-cold building feel even colder.

Jogging to warm his body a little, Araya headed to the kitchen, clinging tightly to the banisters as he descended the steep stairs, by the time he was nearing the kitchen, a familiar voice had him practically skipping the last few feet.

“-sure you’ll be alright? If you wanted me to stay…”

The Kazekage shook his head. “No, I need you to see to my duties, I’ll be fine, Kankuro is with me and I’ve already been informed what to expect, you’re needed more there than here. Good morning Araya, would you like some breakfast?”

He jumped slightly, but sheepishly stepped into the room, staring hard at the floor as he mumbled an affirmative.

A low chuckle and a large hand dropped on his head quickly had him looking back up.

“You’re up early, I don’t suppose the other two will be down yet?” Baki asked. His smile was small, but it still made him want to grin back – so he did.

“They were still asleep when I got up and it’ll probably take Yodo a little while to drag Shinki out of bed…” Following the gentle nudging towards the table, he jumped into a seat and watched his foster father as he started pulling out bowls and plates, their meal was already cooked from the smell of it, just simmering away on the stove to keep warm. He glanced back to the old man standing behind his chair. “Are you looking after us today?”

His veil swayed as he shook his head. “I’m afraid not, I’ll be taking care of the Kazekage duties for the day.”

Araya’s eyes widened – or his good one did at least – and he looked over to the Kazekage himself. “Does that mean you’re staying home with us today?” he asked, bouncing in his seat a little, it wasn’t often that the man was able to take time off and even when he did it was usually only for a few hours.

With so many other adults to help take care of them the kids were never really left home alone and they almost always got to see Gaara in the mornings and evenings, but still, Araya _liked_ spending time with him, he was always so calm and knew all sorts of interesting proverbs; even if he didn’t get into their games like Kankuro, or tell stories as exciting as Baki’s, or clap and high-five them every time they solved a problem in their textbooks, like Auntie Matsuri did, but he was always asking them about their day, how they were feeling, if there was anything he could do for them and he _listened_ , to anything and everything they had to say and he treated it seriously, no matter how silly.

He didn’t know how to describe it, other than that Gaara felt like the great, stone walls that surrounded Suna on all sides, steady and strong and always present, always protecting, even when he was out of sight.

A faint clunk brought his attention to the bowl being placed before him. Blinking a few times to bring his blurry half-vision into focus, he ginned at the steaming vegetable soup, quickly followed by a plate with flatbread and eggs. Settling down in a chair opposite him, Gaara nodded once. “Yumiko-san will be visiting today, to see how you three are settling in.”

Well that… dampened his spirits a little, was that the only reason he was staying home today? Araya couldn’t help pouting at his soup as he tore off a little bread to dip in it.

“But that should only take an hour – or two at most – so I was thinking that afterwards we could all… go out to the desert? Now that the rains have ended there will be many flowers blooming.” The Kazekage’s voice trailed off uncertainly and he seemed very focused on the window all of a sudden.

The smile that crept over his face stretched Araya’s cheeks uncomfortably, but he didn’t care. “Really?! I’ve never gotten to go see them before, do they _really_ cover everything?”

“Not quite everything, but in some areas the flowers can seem as endless as the sand itself.”

“That’s so cool!” he said, trying and failing to picture it in his mind, all he could come up with was dunes painted green with lots of white dots covering them. “How long will they be there? Will we be able to take pictures? Are we allowed to pick some-”

Baki chuckled and once again patted his head. “If you keep waving that spoon around like that, you’ll take someone’s eye out.”

Blushing and quickly snapping his hands to his side, he mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, but you should hurry up and eat before it gets cold,” the man said, in his low, rumbly voice, before turning to Gaara, “if there’s nothing else you needed to tell me about, then I’ll be going now.”

“No, there’s nothing. Thank you for doing this, Sensei.”

With a few warm goodbyes and a wave as he left the room, Baki was gone, leaving the boy and his foster father to finish their breakfast, casually discussing the life-cycle of the desert flowers.

\---

By the time his siblings had come downstairs – no doubt slowed down by Shinki’s unwillingness to ever get up in the mornings – they’d been joined by a still sleep-messed Kankuro and Araya had already finished his meal and helped to wash up, despite Gaara’s insistence that it wasn’t necessary.

“We’re goin’ to look at flowers?” Yodo sounded distinctly unimpressed, but he was too excited to let it get him down.

“Yeah, apparently they cover _everything_ and they only bloom for a week or two after the rainy season so you have to catch them really fast, they’re all sorts of colours and Gaara says it’s even prettier than Konoha’s fields!”

Her nose scrunched up even further. “Yeah, but… they’re just _flowers_.”

Before he could think of a good retort, the echoes of a distant knock bounced down the hallway and into the kitchen.

“Ah, that must be Yumiko-san,” Gaara said, looking torn between going to answer the door and staying with the eggs he was still cooking for Shinki and Yodo, “Kankuro, would you mind-”

Araya leapt from his seat, already charging away before thinking to shout a rushed, “I’ll get it!” before he sprinted down the hall. The distance between the kitchen and entrance wasn’t too great and he’d long since learned how to navigate to each of the main areas in the house, so in less than a minute he was reaching up to twist the door handle and pulling the heavy block of wood open.

The woman standing outside looked surprised for a moment, staring straight ahead before she finally glanced down to notice him, a small, soft smile falling onto her face. “Ah, Araya, it’s good to see you again, how have you been?”

He barely waited for her to crouch down before flinging his arms around her. “Good! Really good, we’re going to see the flowers today!”

“Is that so?” she asked with a laugh, carefully extracting herself from his grip and rising back to her feet. “I do hope our Kazekage hasn’t forgotten my appointment.”

“Oh, he didn’t, we’re going afterwards.”

She smiled again, following him without prompting when he stepped aside to let her in and falling into step beside him as he headed back to the kitchen. “Well that is good to hear, so you must be very excited about it.”

“Mhmm, we’re gonna go out to the dunes and we’re gonna get to pick some for our room and Kankuro said he might bring some of his paints with him!”

Yumiko’s laugh had always been a comforting sound for him. “How exciting, you’ll have to show me next time I visit.”

“You could come with us, I’m sure Gaara wouldn’t mind,” he said, though even as the words left his mouth he started to doubt them; this was supposed to be a _family_ outing after all.

“No, no,” she said, still laughing quietly, “I’ve much too much work to attend to today, perhaps another time.” He grumbled slightly at that, but didn’t argue it further; the two settled into a comfortable silence, only the clicking of her shoes and distant kitchen-table conversation to break it.

It quickly died down once they stepped through the doorway, replaced instead by greetings and introductions and polite enquiries into days. But, it wasn’t long before the meaningless pleasantries were out of the way, Yumiko was settled at the table with some tea – she’d refused the offered meal – as Yodo and Shinki finished eating. With nothing else to excuse delaying any longer, the old woman finally cleared her throat and leaned forwards in her seat.

“So, today is just going to be a check-up meeting, to see how you three are settling in and how your foster is adjusting to your presence in his home. First, I would like to interview each of you separately, then we can have one last group discussion, I can help answer any questions everyone has and we can determine the best path forward, is everyone happy with that?”

A chorus of yeses and nodding answered her.

“Good, then, since you’ve already eaten how about I start with you Araya?”

\---

Yumiko was honestly quite surprised; in the two years she’d known him, she’d never seen Araya quite so… exuberant.

“-he’s _really_ nice, he always asks us about what we like and don’t like and he lets us play whatever we want! Kankuro is funny too, he and Yodo are always shouting at each other – oh, but, uh not bad shouting! Play shouting – and he’s so good at painting, he’s promised to teach me, even though I can’t see great and stuff. When they’re both busy with Kage stuff, Baki and auntie Matsuri come over to look after us, they’re both really nice too, sometimes-”

She wasn’t sure how he managed to hold so much breath in such a small body, he hadn’t paused for a second and it’d taken only the gentlest of nudges to get him there.

It was something of a struggle to keep her lips held firmly together, and even biting her lips against her laughter couldn’t restrain her smile, but she couldn’t even think of trying to stop him, not when his eyes were lit up and his arms flailed wildly at recounting a particularly fun game of tag with ‘auntie’ Matsuri.

This was by no means the first time she’d seen him excited and happy – as traumatic as his childhood had been, he was about as well-adjusted as one could hope – but with the tragic loss of his parents, his physical pains and disabilities and the torments of bullies she’d never found the words to reach, it was rare that he found moments in which he could just _be_ a child. She was glad he’d found one now though, and it sounded like it was just one of many he’d had the last two months.

“-and Shinki and Yodo…”

Leaning forwards slightly in her seat, Yumiko gave the boy a gentle smile. “And…” She let her voice trial off, encouraging, but not demanding; it was a tough line to walk.

He frowned, head dropping to stare at his crossed legs. By the time he answered, he’d begun to pick distractedly at his socks. “They’re… happy. I think.”

“You think?”

“They said they are,” Araya said, the way his lips pursed suggested that he was trying to frown, though his scarred brows couldn’t quite move to show it, “but… I dunno, they might just be saying it to make me happy, because _I’m_ happy here, but I don’t want them to not be happy either.”

She hummed as she thought on how best to respond. She’d suspected that something like this might happen – Araya was definitely the most optimistic and eager for a family of the three children – but she couldn’t say for sure without talking to the others and she couldn’t reassure him that everything would be just fine, not before her inspection was complete, surely it would be crueller to give false hope that she might well be forced to tear away just a few hours later?

Letting out a weary sigh, Yumiko shuffled forwards enough to tap once at his cheek, enough to bring his attention away from destroying his clothing. “It’s good that the three of you understand and care for each other so much, but you are still separate people, with separate needs and desires.”

“But they-”

“Are not inherently more important or valuable than you.” She truly hated the way his face twisted at that. “Araya, you don’t have to answer now, but I would at least like you to think about this; if it came to a choice between staying here alone, or going back to the orphanage with Yodo and Shinki, which would you pick?”

He didn’t seem to have an answer to that.

\---

As interesting as it was to try and interpret the tiny shifts in expression and hidden messages in darting eyes and fidgeting limbs, she couldn’t wait here all day.

“So, Araya was telling me about one of your pranks.”

Yodo snorted, feigning a sudden deep interest in the dirt under her nails – though her tapping fingers and quick-but-not-quick-enough glances to the older woman suggested otherwise. “Which one?” she asked, voice exuding the kind of boredom that came only from extensive practise.

She smiled. Well, two could play at that game. “Something about glitter mixed into Kankuro-san’s face paint?”

“Oh yeah-” the girl snickered briefly “-that was great, ‘cept for the part where he really liked it and asked where I got the glitter from so he could make some more, then it got really borin’.”

“What did you hope would happen?”

Her cheeks puffed out slightly, before she blew a long, loud raspberry. “I dunno, shoutin’, crying, chasing me ‘round an’ stuff. Y’know, _funny_ things.” Yes, she hadn’t changed much at all, though that wasn’t unexpected, Yodo was a girl set in her ways, and it would take time to break her out of them.

But it _was_ happening, try as she might to hide it. Those tiny little smiles she gave as she remembered something from the other day, the way she had easily relaxed into her chair, none of the tensed muscles or careful positioning towards the door, how she could immediately point Yumiko towards the bathroom when she asked. She was slowly getting comfortable in her new environment, which was a good sign.

Not even considering the fact that she still hadn’t made any significant attempts to jeopardise her new family situation, unlike with every other home she was brought into.

“So, tell me, what’s it like to have two new brothers?” she asked, hoping that shifting the topic to something the girl was more comfortable with would encourage her to open up about other aspects of her new life too.

Yodo’s eyes immediately lit up. “They’re great! We play together all the time and they…”

\---

“So, Shinki, how have you been?”

It had been almost a minute since she’d asked her question and he still had yet to speak, but that was expected; he liked to carefully consider his words before speaking, but he rarely ignored a direct question.

He shifted in his seat, bringing legs up to curl against his chest, arms wrapping tightly around them – a good sign, he felt comfortable enough in her presence to not sit ramrod straight as he usually did around adults. “I’ve been… well,” he mumbled, staring intently at his knees.

Yumiko smiled, leaning forwards just a touch and pressing her hands under her thighs. “That’s wonderful to hear, has Gaara-sama been respectful of your needs?”

The boy nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

She would have liked it if he would, but she _also_ respected his needs, and Shinki preferred not to talk whenever possible, so she didn’t press – besides, Araya had helpfully filled in some of the blanks in their talk earlier. So, he was feeling well and was being given the special care and space that he needed, what to ask next… “And what have you been doing since you came here? Are there any new things that have caught your interest?”

There was a very long silence as he thought, rocking gently back and forth in his chair. Instead of staring at him, or sitting in anything approaching anticipation, Yumiko studied the room to take the pressure off of him.

It was more spacious than any living room had the right to be, but this _was_ the Kazekage’s estate, of course it would be lavish.

Despite its grand size, however, it felt very comfortable, the furniture alone probably cost more than she made in a year, but it was old, worn, _lived in_. The chair she sat in was shockingly comfortable – very soft, compared with most Kaze no Kuni crafts – and there were obvious seams where fabric had been patched, a frayed hole on the right arm, where someone with restless hands might have picked away in boredom, a stain on the corner of the cushion – almost invisible, but hard and slightly tacky as she ran her fingers over it. And not only the chair, the entire room was like that, old -fashioned, clearly valuable, but treated the way a family of lesser means might treat the cheap, second-hand furniture picked up in the market.

And, creeping in at the edges, were the signs of the children; board games and toys piled beneath a side-table, ones that she knew they had enjoyed at the orphanage; a stuffed toy half-buried amongst the cushions on the couch; the mark of a wandering crayon drawn against the stone floor, a zigzag of yellow from exuberant colouring.

Yes, there was much to be learned from studying a room, details that could speak more than words ever could.

“I-”

She resisted the urge to snap her head back to face the boy, instead slowly turning to look in his general direction – not directly, as that would just make him uncomfortable, but enough that she could pick up his body language – and nodded encouragingly.

His rocking had slowed, slightly uneven, like he was moving to the beat of a tune only he could hear. “-there’s a greenhouse in the garden, sometimes we can watch while he tends the cacti. It’s… fun.”

Yumiko released a breath she wasn’t even aware she’d been holding with a smile.

\---

The first thing that happened when the man shuffled into the room, was him requesting they switch seats.

When she asked the reasoning – not bothering to hide her amusement as she stood and watched him flump down heavily – all Kankuro said was, “This is my chair.”

Puppeteer’s fingers started drumming idly against the worn righthand armrest, resting his head in his left palm.

He stared at her with the kind of searching gaze she’d been intending to give him. “So, Yumiko-san, I think I recognise that name, Perimeter Defence Platoon, right? You worked under my sister.” The tone of his voice was casual, but his sharp eyes and blank expression told her that he didn’t actually need to ask.

“Indeed, she was the finest commanding officer I ever had,” she said, matching his tone perfectly and mimicking his painstakingly casual posture, “I do hope you don’t intend to leverage the outcome of my assessment with that knowledge.”

A wide, toothy smirk spilled across his face, one that had most _certainly_ been designed to unsettle. “Actually, I’m more worried that you might let the bias sway your opinion in our favour.”

She returned the smile, though hers wasn’t half as wicked, leaning back a little as she said, “Of course not, I may respect Temari-taichou greatly, but I value my job and these children more.” Yumiko knew what he was playing at, but it irked her that her professionalism was being called into question. “Rest assured, if given any reason to suspect that they will not be happy and cared for here, then I will return them to the orphanage immediately; former commanders and Kages be damned.”

The laugh was long and loud, probably audible from the kitchen, and by the time he’d wiped a finger under his eyes and calmed down enough to speak, she was chuckling softly herself.

“Ok, I’m definitely telling them that one, they’ll _love_ it,” he said, shoulders still shaking slightly, but all artifice and conniving melting from his person. “Sorry, but Gaara wanted to check what kinda person we’re leaving in charge of the next generation, y’know how it is.”

“Yes-” she did, she herself was still unable to escape from the shinobi mindset, even several years after her resignation “-now, may we _please_ get to how you are finding the children?”

He snorted and slouched back in his chair. “Eh, they’re alright I guess, for brats… Never tell ‘em I said that.”

\---

The Kazekage stared at the chair with the same intense glare she might expect him to give a particularly troublesome report. By the time he’d managed to sit down – rather mechanically, with some subtle, awkward fidgeting, before crossed his legs and clasped his hands together in his lap – she had spun all manner of wild imaginings about _just_ how protective his brother was of the object.

She almost laughed out loud, but managed to keep it stifled behind bitten lips, instead nodding and mimicking his posture. “So, how have things been?” she said, voice firmly back under control.

He shifted again, brows creasing just slightly. “…I cannot answer that question simply.”

“Then answer honestly,” she said, careful to keep a warm smile on her face.

There was a long pause before he answered, it seemed that he and Shinki were both similar in their care with words. “It has been a… learning experience. Every day has brought new discoveries, and there is still so much I don’t understand.” His body language was difficult to read, he sat with a kind of stillness that bordered on unnatural, but that in itself said something about his character. “I do not feel entirely equipped to deal with this situation.”

Humming, Yumiko leaned forwards slightly. “It sounds as though you would rather I take the children back with-”

“No,” he said, voice hard and sharp; she’d heard it before, it was the tone he used when commanding his shinobi, “they are still in danger of falling into the dark, of believing that trust and family are a weakness, I _will not_ abandon them to that fate.”

She gave him a long, unflinching stare, expression carefully blank as she studied him for any hesitance. “And, if I decided that you are not the one best suited to caring for them…”

The man blinked, as though the thought hadn’t even occurred to him, before frowning and dropping his head to gaze at his hands.

She didn’t push for an answer, just sat quietly as he came to it himself.

“Then I would defer to your judgement,” he eventually said, slow and slightly hesitant, “however I would request that they be allowed to keep in contact with me, if they so desire, as a guide to keep them on the safest path.” Those eyes were utterly inscrutable, even to her, but there was something about them that soothed her worries all the same.

Yumiko nodded, flashing him a short smile. “Well, that is understandable, but, before I make the decision, perhaps we could speak in a little more detail of your new experiences?”

\---

By the time Gaara guided Yumiko back into the kitchen, there was a thick tension to the air, filled with forced casual conversation. Araya had been trying his best to ignore it, but despite his best efforts and Yodo goading Kankuro into a game of the floor is lava – one that she was determined to win, despite the monumental advantage the ninja had of being able to walk on walls – there was still a constant, awful, tickling sensation at the back of his neck, a whisper repeating in his ears that he was about to lose _everything_.

When the woman finally stepped back into the room, a terrible silence fell across them all.

Her familiar, warm smile did little to slow his pounding heart.

“Well then,” she said, slipping into the seat Shinki pulled out for her with a soft thank you, “now that I’ve spoken to everyone, I think I can say that you all seem to be adjusting remarkable well.”

Araya wanted to cry he was so relieved, but his body was still frozen, not quite accepting the words.

“While there is clearly still a way to go yet, I believe this home suits you three well-” she nodded at him, Shinki and Yodo in turn “-and I’m happy to continue letting you stay here until my next inspection in a few months’ time.”

He wanted to cry, or shout, or laugh, or jump up and hug her, or his siblings; he ended up doing all five.

It took almost two minutes for everyone – well, mostly him and Kankuro to be honest – to calm down, during which Yumiko just smiled and tried to hide her amusement behind a hand, before she managed to get them settled in their seats and speak again. “Now, I just want to be clear that this is still a trial period and you never know how things might change…”

Araya’s face dropped and the old panic started to come back to him.

“…But I feel confident that this will work out well for all of you, so try not to let it worry you,” she said, giving him a gentle tap on the head and continuing, “now, before I go, does anyone have any questions or concerns they would like to share with me?”

As always followed such requests, there was a long, awkward moment of exchanged glances and uncomfortable shifting.

“Yeah, I got one,” Kankuro finally spoke up, “when do I get my medal for puttin’ up with blondie over there?”

“OI!”

\---

The rush of wind was absolutely _exhilarating_.

Araya had never been so high up before, or moved so fast; he’d never known what it was like to feel his clothes whipping around his body, his short hair pushed completely back by the force of their movement, fingers gripping tight to the hardened rope of sand encircling their floating platform.

He wished his vision were just a little better, so that he could see how small the village looked from high above and the contrasting colours of the distant horizon, where sand met late-afternoon sky.

From the moment that the sand had started to rise, with him and his siblings on it, he’d been unable to stop grinning for a second. He and Shinki were both practically dangling off the sides – though the tug of a surprisingly soft tendril on their ankles kept them from leaning _too_ far – giggling excitedly and pointing things out to each other as they flew. Yodo was… decidedly less enthralled and had curled into a tight ball in the dead-centre of the platform, an expression somewhere between nausea and horror painted across her face, utterly refusing to move, no matter how many times he’d tried to drag her up to see a distant rock formation.

Gaara and Kankuro were sitting on a separate platform, flying a few feet ahead of them; one without any barrier, he had to wonder how they weren’t falling off.

“Hey,” Araya turned to face his brother, already grinning, just because it was so rare to hear him raise his voice like that, “look over there, can you see the flowers?” He followed the pointing finger, squinting at the distant dunes.

“There’s… so much purple! And yellow and green!” True he couldn’t really _see_ it, but even the blurry splash of colours was enough to make him squeal.

Kankuro shouted something that was immediately whipped away by the wind, but from the way he was pointing it was probably something about landing soon.

By the time they had slowed down, wind not ripping quite so hard and the field far below gaining more and more detail as they descended, he was practically bouncing in place, ready to jump up and start exploring.

Yodo didn’t even wait for the barrier to disappear, leaping over it the second they were only a few feet from the ground and flopping face-first onto the floor. He laughed, carefully jumping down after her, soft ground cushioning his landing, before finally staring up at the great field of flowers surrounding them on all sides. He barely registered Shinki joining him, or the hiss as the sand platforms reshaped back into the gourd always against the Kazekage’s back; too captivated by the sights and smells and tickle of soft petals against his ankles.

He crouched down to look closely at the ones at his feet – ignoring Kankuro’s loud laughter at Yodo’s apparent fear of flying.

There were a few types, some tiny, purple ones growing in great bushes; tall stems topped with a white and yellow flower, splitting into three petals; strange red ones that looked almost more like leaves; clusters of little white ones; pretty lilac-coloured ones, with bright yellow and deep red stalks growing from the centre; single, large, elaborate blooms, painted a blue even brighter than the sky!

It was only when he felt the presence of someone kneeling next to him, that he noticed he’d

“These ones are a type of saffron-” he brushed a finger against the pale purple flowers, carefully plucking out a single red strand “-these crimson stigmata are used as a spice in cooking.” His hand drifted to the red leafy-looking ones. “Rumex vesicarius, the ground leaves can be used to sooth a scorpion sting.” Another shift, this time to the big blue flower. “Centaurea cyanus, it makes a wonderful tea.”

Araya stared in wonderment as he went through each plant, naming and giving an interesting fact for every one – usually about their various medicinal or culinary uses – answering questions and warning him away from the poisonous ones.

At some point, Shinki had drifted close to them, sitting a short distance away, but clearly listening intently.

He grinned widely. “Wow, there’s so many! It’s a shame they’ll be gone soon though…”

“Perhaps,” Gaara said, something in his voice a little… sad, almost, “but that is their life-cycle. Their beauty might be fleeting, but our memories will last.” He stared off into the distance, to where Kankuro had set up an easel and paints, brushing his canvas with effortless strokes, to Yodo cackling as she charged through the meadow that had overtaken the dunes, to Shinki, rocking gently and carefully picking a bunch of the non-toxic blooms and, finally, to Araya, gazing up at him. He smiled, small and a little bit stiff, but _real_. “Besides, they will bloom again, after the next rainy season.”

The words brought a smile to his own face, as he decided to help his brother make a beautiful bouquet for their home.

More than anything, he hoped that they’d all be able to come see the flowers again next year.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/post/170952243543/now-presenting-the-llf-comment-builder-beta).  
>    
>  This author sees and appreciates all comments, but may not reply.



End file.
